For Choices
by ChristianGateFan
Summary: The campaign trail over, Rory comes home. All she wanted was a job nearby, but what she finds turns her life upside-down...Jess, Dean, AND Logan, all back in her life somehow. One mistake will set her back on course to the one she's always been meant for.
1. Chapter 1

Time: Post-series

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance/Humor

Warnings: Adult situations, and any spoilers are game, seeing as this is post-series.

Summary: The campaign trail over, Rory Gilmore comes home. All she wanted was a job nearby, but what she finds turns her world upside-down...Jess, Dean, AND Logan, all appearing in her life again in one way or another. Friends with two, at odds with the other...but will it stay that way? One mistake will set Rory back on the course to the one she's always been meant for.

Author's Notes: This is my first Gilmore Girls fic, so please be kind and please do review if you like it so I know how I'm doing. Thanks to all of you ahead of time!

For Choices

March 2009

The Hartford airport was crowded, and hot, and much smaller than she remembered, but for once Rory Gilmore didn't care. She wasn't on her way back to the campaign bus, or to another city and another cheap hotel, and she wasn't even heading back to Stars Hollow for only a short holiday that would end much too soon.

Today she wasn't doing any of those things. Today she was _going home_.

After nearly two years following President Obama's trail through campaigning and candidacy, right up to being president elect and his inauguration and move into the White House—reporting everything along the way for the online news magazine she worked for—the trail was over, and she was coming home. She had just seen everyone at Christmas, but already that seemed like forever ago.

She was more than ready to be back in Stars Hollow...at least for a little while.

Rory saw them as she rounded the corner, shouldering her carry-on and making sure she had a firm grip on it before they saw her. Once they caught wind, it would be too late—no more time to brace herself for the onslaught that was sure to come.

The group wasn't as large as it could have been, but it was larger than she'd expected. She'd expected only her mother and Luke, but Sookie and Jackson and Lane were there as well, all huddled in a group and craning their necks, looking for none other than her.

"Guys, hey!" she waved. Five heads turned, and Lorelai Gilmore's grin was the brightest of the reactions she received. Rory would have gotten a better look at it if she weren't already running. "Mom!" The idea of keeping her bag on her shoulder was forgotten as she flew into her mother's arms.

"Hey, whoa!" Rory was wearing tennis shoes, but Lorelai's heels slid from the force of the impact. Luke and Jackson's arms shot out to steady them both. "Right, good—because this may also be post-Washington, but we don't necessarily need a repeat of the high school era post-Washington incident."

"Though it wasn't that bad," Rory commented.

"No, of course not; being on the floor is so much _cooler_ than being on our feet like everyone else," Lorelai replied seriously, before finally letting go enough for her daughter to look at them all.

"Oh my god you guys; it's so good to be home!" A hyper Lane received the next tight embrace, followed by Luke, Sookie, and finally Jackson.

"I would have been home watching Davy and Martha, but the women insisted they needed a man to help carry the luggage," the produce man commented.

Rory raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Luke doesn't count?"

"I'm her fiance, so apparently I don't count because I was obligated to come anyway."

"Exactly, mom. He had to come anyway. Why couldn't _he_ be the man?"

"Because it was more fun bugging Jackson until he agreed to come. Besides, after two years on the road I'm sure your belongings will take up more than one man," Lorelai related matter-of-factly.

"Ah. I see. Then who _is_ watching Davy and Martha."

Lane crossed her arms. "Zach and Brian are watching them."

"_And_ Kwan and Steve?"

"Yep."

Rory gaped. "You left them with _four_ little kids? Poor guys!"

"Poor kids," Lorelai smirked. Sookie shot her a look. "Ignore me, sweetie. I'm certain your offspring are just fine."

Rory Gilmore was returning triumphant, and it was already off to a good start. The fact that she didn't exactly have a job would have to be worked out, but still...Her editor at the online magazine had told her she was more than welcome to continue freelance work for the web publication even if she had decided not to continue with them on a permanent basis. She had made quite a name for herself there, as far as small-time online magazines went, but it was time to move on.

Besides that, the more stable post they'd offered her once the trail was over would have kept her in Washington, and she just didn't want to live there. Maybe it was everything that had always fascinated her, but was too far away, and more than anything she wanted a job on a paper or magazine that actually went to print.

The freelance work would tide her over, and for now she was just glad to be home.

"Two years, and you've already got this much stuff?" Luke protested as he and Jackson shouldered her bags and suitcases once they'd been claimed.

Rory moved to help, but her mother stopped.

"No no, dear. This is what we brought the men _for_."

She winced, really wanting to help the poor guys. "Well, those really are _all_ I've been living out of for almost two years. For that long it's really not that much..."

Luke snorted. "Thanks; I'll contemplate changing my opinion while my back is breaking."

"Jackson, honey, be careful. You know how your knees like to bother you," Sookie warned.

At that Rory took one of the heavy bags herself and managed to get away with it. "How about we _all _take at least one, and then _nobody_ can complain," she sighed, shaking her head. Some things never changed.

"Fine by me," Lane shrugged. Sookie just chuckled and took another off her husband.

Lorelai pouted. "But I thought to bring the men and everything."

Rory started out without her. "We only have to get as far as the parking lot, mother." She glanced back and watched Luke drop one of the bags from his load on her mother's shoulders.

"Yah! Warn me next time before you drop heavy quantities of...Rory...ness...on me," she grunted, staggering and falling in behind everyone else. Luke laughed and ran ahead a few steps before going back to walk with her. Rory caught a brief kiss between them out of the corner of her eye before she focused again on where she was going.

It was definitely good to be home.

It wasn't long before Lorelai abandoned her fiance to catch up to her daughter. "Rory! Rory, my heart, my life—have I taught you nothing? You just don't abandon Mommy barely an hour after you've gotten home," she whined.

Definitely good.

* * *

Luke dropped the last bag on the floor in Rory's room and retreated with Sookie, Jackson and Lane to give mother and daughter some time to themselves. Lorelai stood against the door frame, watching her daughter look around her room as if seeing it for the first time.

"Is it weird?" she asked.

Rory shrugged. "Only in that it hasn't changed."

"Besides the big pile of suitcases in the middle of the floor," Lorelai smirked.

"Yes, besides the big pile of suitcases."

"So it's really not weird?"

"I was just here at Christmas, Mom. I'm sure it'll seem weird in a few weeks when I'm actually still here, but there's nothing strange about being here now."

Lorelai grinned. "If it's not weird, you don't need time to adjust."

Eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"

She grabbed her daughter's arm and dragged her from the room. "Come on; I've something to show you."

"Oh...kay..." Rory almost tripped following her, but Lorelai didn't slow down as she tugged her out the front door and down the street.

"Mom, where are we going! I can't go to town _now_; I'm wearing jeans, and this shirt is wrinkled, and I still have plane hair!"

"It's up; you can't tell it's plane hair."

"Hair up like _this_ is the _definition_ of plane hair."

"Big sissy."

"MOM!"

Lorelai dragged her all the way to the town square, only stopping when she reached the gazebo. She positioned her daughter the way she wanted her to look, and did a cheesy Vana pose. "There it is, my dear."

"There's what? The church I passed on my way to school every day for ten years?

"No, my brilliant college graduate. It's the church where your mother is getting married in two weeks." She waited for the reaction to that one, but all she got at first was an incredulous stare. "Come on, honey; kinda looking for a little more feedback here."

"Ah...."

"Please, four years of Yale and that's all I get?"

"Married? To Luke?"

"No, to Taylor."

Rory made a sudden face. "Oh god; don't even joke."

Lorelai shuddered. "You're right. Bad joke. Yes, to Luke."

"To Luke. You're getting married to Luke."

"Yes."

"In two weeks."

"We have a winner."

"You're getting married to Luke in two weeks?"

Lorelai smirked a little. "Are you catching on or should I draw a few diagrams?"

"_Two weeks_?" Rory burst suddenly. "What happened to careful planning and, you know, telling me about it a lot sooner, for one thing."

"Well we didn't know ourselves until last week."

The poor child looked utterly lost now. "How could you have not known?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't know. Planning didn't work for us last time; having to wait was probably part of what messed us up. We always wanted to have you _home,_ and not just on a break when we did it, and then we heard you _were_ coming home, and..." She shrugged. "We made up our mind, called the church, and took the first available date."

"Which...apparently...is two weeks from now."

"Yes."

"You're just going to do it."

Lorelai smiled. "That's the idea. I think it's about time."

Rory shook her head and let out a breath. "So do I. I mean...really. I completely agree." Finally she brightened. "Oh my god you're getting _married_!"

Childish squeals, jumping up-and-down and hugging ensued, and for Lorelai the imminent wedding took a back seat for the moment as she reveled in the fact that her daughter was _home._

* * *

As if the fact that her mother was getting married weren't enough, Lorelai dragged Rory from the gazebo to Luke's—where most of the town was waiting for her.

All right, not most of the town, or even close, really. After all, she had only given a few days' notice before she headed home, and it was the middle of the day and many were at work. There were no fancy decorations this time, party music, twinkle lights, or an overabundance of food. Still, there was a single banner over the window between the diner and the ice cream shop, and enough people to make her self-conscious.

Strange how she could still feel that way here, when she'd spent the last two years traveling with the man that was now President of the United States and been just fine doing it.

But that was Stars Hollow. The people here could love you to pieces and drive you to distraction all at once.

"Welcome home, Rory!" they all shouted at once. A few of them had tried to hide, and popped up from behind the counter or under tables—namely Kirk, Lulu, and Caesar. As if there was really any way to hide at Luke's. She'd seen them all half a block away, but she hadn't gathered why they were all in there until her mother flung open the door in front of her and she'd seen the banner.

Her mouth dropped open, and before she could react Rory was squashed between Babette and Miss Patty, and everyone else was pressing in along with them, echoing with their own welcomes in a general cacophony.

"Oh!" she gasped, the breath knocked out of her. "Wow...thanks you guys..." She shot her mother a _you did this_ look, and Lorelai just grinned back.

"Welcome home, honey," she repeated.

Luckily Luke rescued her, elbowing in between the two women suffocating Rory to give her a gentle hug of his own—much better than the one she'd gotten for her college acceptance letters, of course. Being with her mother had greatly improved his physical affection skills.

"Okay, people; my place, my rules! Let's back up! Give the kid some air!" he called, sweeping them all back once he let go. Rory mouthed her thanks, and couldn't help grinning.

All right...maybe the wedding news itself was a little unexpected right now, but it was all right. She couldn't have found a better step-father if she'd tried. At 24 maybe it was a little late in the game to officially be getting one, but, well, better late than never.

She only hoped Lorelai could go through with it and hold it together this time. It had never been Luke she worried about.

* * *

That night was movie night, in celebration of Rory's homecoming. They brought out the good ones, _Casablanca_ among them. Luke was there too, of course, but as comfortable as it was to have him around it didn't really seem strange. That, and she had no objection to his presence as long as he let her hog Lorelai.

Rory snuggled on one end of the couch with her mother, leaving Luke at the other end. She cast a glance at him, smirking. "Been holding down the fort for me while I was gone?"

"If the fort to which you're referring is your mother's sanity, then I can only claim to have barely done my job."

"Luke, Luke, Luke, you know I need my baby. If you'd really wanted to do your job better you'd have tracked down that bus and dragged her home a long time ago," Lorelai retorted.

He opened he mouth to reply, and then seemed to think better of it. "What's the point? I can't win."

"That's right; you are again up against _two_ Gilmores!" his fiance crowed enthusiastically. "Get used to it, because I plan to chain her in her room and keep her here. Actually it'd have to be a pretty long chain, so she could at least get around town, and we'd probably have to let her off to get to Friday night dinners, but we can work out the kinks in that plan later."

Luke only snorted in amusement and shook his head.

"My mother the warden."

"You'd better believe it, sweetheart," Lorelai grinned, squeezing her daughter's shoulders again. "Now un-pause the thing already."

Rory held the control away as her mother reached for it. "Hey, hey, my homecoming my remote, and I have another question."

"Yeees, my dear?" she drawled.

"How in the world are we going to get a wedding for you guys together in two weeks?"

"We don't have to."

"What?" She glanced back at Luke.

"Apparently it's already together," he shrugged.

Rory looked at her mother again. "Explain yourself."

"We have you, a date, a place, and a preacher. I've still got the dress, and with the information system in this town everyone already knows. No invitations needed."

"I assume Sookie's doing the food."

"You assume correctly."

She sat back, mostly satisfied. "But won't there be any decorations? Who's going to set up for the reception, and where's it going to be?"

Lorelai grimaced. "I think I was temporarily insane yesterday, when I finally told my mother about the wedding."

Rory's eyebrows went up into her hairline. "What did you do?" she demanded in horror.

Luke chuckled from her other side. "Emily is insisting on paying for pretty much _everything_, and she's getting together with Sookie on the decorations and the reception."

"Which means we have no idea what that poor little church is going to look like—not to mention the inn," Lorelai sighed.

"The reception's at the inn then?"

"Yes." She knocked her head into the back of the couch a few times. "Why, why, _why_ did I say yes? My mind and my mouth are considering breaking up for good."

Rory grinned, finding immense amusement in her mother's freak-out. Still, she felt pity. It was Emily Gilmore, after all. "Look at the bright side, mom. She _is _working with Sookie. She _likes_ Sookie, and Sookie will keep her reigned in."

"I just hope it's enough," Lorelai mumbled. She finally straightened again. "And you're my maid of honor, by the way."

"I wouldn't have accepted any different. And the other positions?"

She winced. "Right now Martha's set to be flower girl, but if Chris answers my message that might become Gigi. I just don't know yet on that one...but Davy's our ring bearer, and..." She trailed off uncomfortably and looked over Rory's head at Luke. "Wanna pimp your own news over there, burger boy?

Luke opened his mouth a couple of times before he actually said anything. "Well, I'm relatively sure Jess is going to make it in to be my best man..."

Rory blinked in surprise. "Oh." That shouldn't have surprised her. Jess was Luke's nephew—his only other family besides Liz and TJ and Doula and April—and as far as she knew uncle and nephew were getting along just fine these days, when they saw each other. That should have made perfect sense. It did. She just hadn't been ready for it. "Right, yeah. Of course he would."

"You okay with that?" Lorelai questioned with concern.

"What? Yeah, of course I'm okay with that."

"You did show up at his publishing place in Philadelphia, and seemed to get on well enough then; are you two like, friends now or something?" Luke asked.

"I don't really know. We haven't exactly talked since then..." He mother was giving her that look, and Rory did what she could to deflect it immediately. "But it's okay. It won't be weird. We'll be fine. Despite its short notice, I promise the both of you that this wedding will be as perfect as it's in my power to make it."

Lorelai pulled her in again. "That's my wonderful dysfunctional offspring."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Here you go! I didn't mean to take this long to update, but school got in the way (as always). However, I have just begun a three-day weekend! So look for another update or two soon. :) Please still review though, because I need to know what you all think; it helps so much, especially since I'm still a bit insecure about jumping into a new fandom with fanfic.

Anyway, please enjoy, and thanks for being so patient!

Just a note: Yes, I am allowed to pick fun at the South. I'm a native of of it and I love it, so I have the right, lol. ;)

Chapter 2

Rory decided to give herself a week to do absolutely nothing. She was going to enjoy being home, and a week seemed like a good interval of time in which to do it before worrying about job applications at all.

Her mother, however, didn't seem to like that idea.

"A week? Only a week?" Lorelai protested. She looped an arm through her daughter's as they walked back toward the house from Luke's. "You're away for almost two years and you're only going to give yourself a week to be lazy? Really, kid, after two years I think you deserve a longer break."

"I _will _end up with a longer break than that. It'll take time to get my resumes sent out, get interviews and actually _find_ a job. I just need to get started in about a week, that's all. I figure if I start then, I might start hearing back by after the wedding."

Lorelai huffed a little. "Fine, but when you send out those resumes make sure you tell everyone that you can't start for at _least_ a month, because you have to stay with your mommy for a while."

Rory smiled a little. "I can't make any promises."

"But you _have_ to stay at least that long—maybe _two_ months, or three or more if you want to make _sure_ I won't secretly resent you for the rest of your life."

"Oh, thanks for that."

"You're welcome," her mother replied cheerfully.

Rory laughed, slowing as they passed the bookstore. She extracted herself from Lorelai and backpedaled. "Hey, wait. It's been three days and I haven't been in here yet. We don't want Andrew to think I forgot about him, do we?"

She reached to pull the door open, but Lorelai snapped forward to hold it closed. "Uh, honey, about that..."

Rory looked at her strangely. "What? Andrew?"

"Well, no. Andrew's fine. It's the bookstore. Or...what's _in_ the bookstore."

"How would you know what's in the bookstore?"

"Hey, I read," Lorelai answered in mock offense.

Rory crossed her arms. "Are you going to let me go in there or not?"

Her mother opened her mouth and closed it again, frowning a little. Finally she just moved. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn me? You haven't said anything yet." Utterly confused, Rory brushed past her mother and hurried into Stars Hollow Books, wondering what on earth Lorelai had been trying to say.

At first nothing looked at different. All of the shelves and displays looked to be in exactly the same place, the only difference being the books on them. Most of them she'd seen in previous trips to bookstores back around Washington before getting here. After all, her job hadn't taken all of her time. She still had to have something to do for fun.

There was one book, however, she was certain she hadn't seen. It was on a small table in a corner, all but hidden behind a larger display from most angles, as if it wasn't quite sure it wanted to be there.

Rory started toward the lonely display curiously, and she sensed her mother on her heels.

"Yeah...that one."

She glanced back in confusion, and picked up her pace to grab one of the books from the table as a sneaking suspicion nipped at her.

The suspicion was right.

"Jess," she voiced, staring at the author's name emblazoned on the bottom of the front cover. "Jess wrote another book." It was thicker than the first, and the cover design was a bit more professional—better looking. Not just colored type on a black background.

That first attempt had been more of a novella than a book, but this was definitely a novel. Rory flipped through it to check; 423 pages.

Wow.

She didn't remember the details of his first book. She'd read it, and remembered that no, it definitely hadn't been perfect, but it had been a fair attempt—not quite deserving of the critical view the author held, but then again weren't you always your own worst critic? She wondered if this sophomore effort was any better.

She wondered why she hadn't known about it.

"Why didn't somebody tell me?" she demanded, spinning to face her mother.

"Rory, I swear those books only came in last week, and I only knew they were in here because Luke told me about it. We weren't sure if Jess was going to tell you himself, or if we should, and then we were a little busy being happy about deciding to finally get _married_, so..."

Rory studied her for a moment, finally deciding that she was telling the truth; it was only innocent mis-communication, or non-communication. Whatever.

"Fine, I forgive you." She held up the book. "But I'm buying this right this minute."

Lorelai snatched it away from her. "Oh, no you're not."

"Mom!"

"_I'm_ buying—and anything else you want in here today."

Rory let out the breath she'd taken in preparation to complain. "Oh. You don't have to do that."

"Hey, let me pamper my kid once in a while, will you?"

She grinned. "Don't worry; I won't go crazy."

"Are you kidding? Go _insane_. I'm a business owner and I'm marrying another one. Go completely nuts."

Rory just laughed and hugged her. "I love you, Mom."

* * *

"What are you _doing_ in there?" Rory called.

Lorelai adjusted what she was wearing, took a quick glance in the mirror and finally emerged from her bathroom.

"I'm showing you _this_; that's what I'm doing," she grinned.

Rory, who had been sprawled across her mother's bed, popped up as her mouth dropped open. "That's your dress?"

"It sure is. You have no idea how glad I am I didn't get rid of it; it's perfect."

"Oh my god, it is! It's amazing!" Rory slid off the bed and came to her side to circle her. "Oh my god," she repeated. "I love this dress."

"Say the word and I'll make sure not to damage it so I can save it for you."

"Even if you did you could fix it; that's the advantage of having a mother who can sew anything."

"That's true," Lorelai bragged. "I guess that means I can have aaallll the fun I want."

"I'm not so sure about that one."

"Be positive and just tell me how pretty I am."

Rory smirked and stopped in front of her. Her expression softened. "You look great, mom."

Lorelai smiled, took her daughter's hands and tugged her over to the bed. "Come here; sit down," she said, patting the rumpled comforter.

Rory plopped onto the edge and waited for her mother to sit down more carefully. "What is it?"

She didn't let go of Rory's hands as she grinned. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"What?"

She took a breath. "I know you've always kind of wondered about me...worried, I guess. But you don't have to do that anymore. I know it's right this time, kid. I know it."

An eyebrow went up. "I'd be thrilled if it was; I've always _thought_ it was. But what do you mean you _know_?"

"Because I'm excited—and not like before. Not like when I thought I was going to marry Max, or when I said yes to your dad, or even after Luke said yes to me when we got engaged the first time. I don't think I've ever been more excited or nervous in my life, Rory. I've been trying this dress on way too much, whenever Luke's not around, or...well when you're asleep, since you got here, and..." She trailed off, not sure she could explain how she felt any more clearly than that.

Rory made a distinct 'that's-so-cute' noise. "Awwww....mom, you found the guy you want to try on your wedding dress every day for."

"Maybe the one story my mother ever told that actually stuck," Lorelai grinned. "Maybe it stuck too well. For a while there I almost considered buying long white gloves."

Her daughter made a face. "Wow. You must have hung out with Grandma and Grandpa way too much while I was gone."

"Only out of sheer lonliness, I swear."

"Do we need to put you on Emily detox?"

She chuckled. "Believe me, I've considered _that_ too." They both laughed, and when they trailed off there was comfortable silence until Rory spoke up again.

"So this is it."

Lorelai nodded firmly. "This is it."

* * *

Rory sighed and pushed the book back into her purse before stepping irresolutely into Luke's Diner. Luke was passing with a couple of plates as she closed the door behind her.

"Hey, Luke."

"Hey," he clipped back.

"Where's Lane?"

"Took the day off so she and Zach could take Kwan and Steve somewhere, I think.

"Ah, yes, those godchildren of yours. How are they, anyway? I have yet to actually get over there to see them."

Luke shrugged once he'd given out the orders. "Fine, as far as I know. Did you need something?"

"I'm not sure yet..."

He looked at her curiously for a brief second, shrugged again and went back to work. Caesar had just set out two more plates, but he stopped when he went to grab them and scowled at the one on the left.

"Caesear, what the hell is this?"

The pleasantly plump cook stuck his head out from the kitchen. "What?" He glanced down at the scorched egg on the plate. "Oh, oops. That one was supposed to go in the trash, not on a plate. I must have spaced out for a second."

"Less spacing and more working, please. This is Saturday, not Christmas." Luke snatched up the plate that was good to go and passed it over to the far end of the counter where the man who'd ordered it was sitting.

Smiling to herself and glad to be able to witness the amusement of Luke at work once again, Rory climbed onto the stool by the cash register and waited for him to have a moment free. He didn't seem to realize she'd settled there until he finally paused behind the counter.

"You're still here."

"Yes I am."

"Decided if you want anything yet?"

"Just coffee for now, thanks."

Luke nodded, retrieved a mug, and poured her a full steaming cup. "Where's your mom?"

Rory took a sip, wincing at the heat before answering. "Still sleeping, actually—getting a head start on resting up for the honeymoon, I would guess." She hadn't quite expected him to actually turn a little pink at that, but he did. He hid it well, but he did.

Luke in love. Completely, head-over-heels in love. Somehow even after all the time he'd been on-and-off with her mother, that was still a difficult concept to grasp.

It was a good one, though.

"Sure..." he trailed uncertainly.

She took another sip of coffee, slurping to keep from burning her tongue—that and the fact that she knew it drove Luke crazy, "Hey, where are you guys going on your honeymoon, anyway? My esteemed mother has yet to mention it." Rory grinned. "I think she's too excited about the wedding itself to think about much else."

Luke smiled warmly at that one—a rare sight on his face if one didn't know him. Well, even if you did, really. But that was just Luke.

"She's knows we're taking my boat somewhere, and we'll be gone for at least a couple of weeks. That's all _you're_ going to know, too, because if I tell you anything else it'll get back to her."

Rory gaped in mock horror. "Luke Danes, are you accusing me of being unable to keep a secret?"

"No, I'm just accusing you of being your mother's daughter."

"Ah. Well, that I can live with," she nodded. With her coffee finally cool enough, she gulped at it until Luke came back from delivering another two or three plates.

"You know, I finally got to go on that big boat trip with April last summer. It turned out pretty well, and I think we're going again this year. It'll probably be a lot shorter this time, but either way you're uh...welcome to come with us, you know, if you can..." he offered.

Rory blinked up at him. "With you and April?"

"Yeah, I mean...I'll be your step-dad, and April will be your step-sister, I guess, so if you wanted to get to know her better or anything...you could come. You don't have to, but it's there..."

She hadn't thought about that. April really would be her sister once this marriage was concrete, wouldn't she? By the time she'd gotten on good terms with her mother again her Junior year of Yale, things were already starting to unravel with Luke and the idea of their marriage had never been as real as it was now. She hadn't had time to think about the way it would affect her family.

Now it would be not two, not three, but four, in a way—almost five, if she could include Gigi. Maybe six, with Dad. It was all a little twisted and a lot confusing, and this wasn't even the South.

But Rory loved them all, and she knew she always would. Whatever the dynamics, they were all a permanent part of life now, no matter how united or not they might become.

"I'll definitely consider it," she answered thoughtfully. Sailing was one semi-outdoor activity she didn't completely object to. After all, there was the whole stealing-a-yacht incident, wasn't there?

But she didn't want to remember that right now. They had succeeded in having it expunged from her record when the two years were up, and she was determined to leave it in the past—along with the rest of...Logan.

"Really?" Luke asked.

She nodded. "Of course. I mean, I have no idea where I'll be or what I'll be doing by June or July, but it sounds like a great idea. At the very least, maybe we could do a few days, anyway, even if I have a job by then." She grimaced. "God, I _hope_ I have a job by then."

Luke leaned a little closer over the counter. "You'll be fine." She smiled at him, and after a moment he motioned to the nearly empty mug of coffee. "More?"

"Please."

He gave her a re-fill as she held the mug out to him. "So have you decided if you want anything else yet?"

Rory took a deep breath. "Actually, yes."

"What can I get you?"

"Well...not food."

Luke looked at her curiously, but it was taking her a little time to decide to really ask for what she wanted. After a few dead seconds he said, "If you're looking for some type of cliché response before you go on, you're not going to get it."

She let out the breath. "I need Jess's number."

Both eyebrows went up this time. "I see...why is that?"

Rory pulled the book out of her purse and dropped it almost ceremoniously on the counter between them. "He didn't tell me," she explained shortly.

Luke stared at it for a moment. "Oh." He almost winced. "Rory, listen, I promise I was gonna mention it if he still hadn't contacted you—"

"It's okay, Luke; I've been through this with Mom. I don't blame either of you for anything, I'm just...still a little hurt, I guess, that he didn't tell me. We hadn't talked in a year-and-a-half, and we'd parted pretty badly, and he _still_ told me about the first book. He came in _person_ to tell me about the first book." She shrugged. "I guess it's time I at least talked to him."

Luke nodded slowly. "Yeah...yeah, okay." He pulled a notepad from beside the register closer, took his pen from his pocket and scribbled the number down. "Here." He ripped it off and held it out, and Rory took it uncertainly, glancing at the Philadelphia area code.

"Thanks..."

"Good luck."

Rory folded the small sheet of paper into the book, and replaced it all in her purse. "Thanks," she repeated, more earnestly this time. She took a few gulps of the second cup of coffee and stood, digging for her wallet.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to pay you." She glanced up and realized he was giving her the patented Luke Danes _are-you-insane?_ look. "What?"

It took a few seconds. "Oh...right...marrying my mother..."

"Now you're catching on."

Rory rolled her eyes at herself and turned for the door. "See you later, Luke. Thanks again."

"Any time."

As she left she heard him fall back into into boss mode, and she could just see him yelling through the kitchen door even though she didn't turn to see him do it.

"Caesar, where's the damn egg order you were supposed to fix!"

* * *

Rory almost started to call Jess while sprawled on her bed late that afternoon—well after Lorelai had left to go out with Luke—but something about it just didn't seem right anymore.

Lying there with the phone in her hands, about to call him...it was _too _familiar. It brought back too many memories. They were memories she didn't want, of lying there calling him, just enjoying his conversational company when she should have been paying attention to the wonderful boyfriend she'd actually had then.

So little time, too many undefined regrets.

So she moved to the living room, dropping onto the newer, stripped couch her mother and Luke had purchased during the upstairs remodel three or four years ago to prepare for the marriage and co-habitation that hadn't come to pass then.

She stared at the phone for a good two minutes before kicking herself—almost literally—for acting like the teenager she most certainly wasn't anymore (Right?), and dialed.

"_Yeah_?"

Rory almost jumped. "Uh, yeah. Hey...it's me."

God, how much more lame could she get?

There was a pause before the answer came. "_Rory_?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I guess I should have clarified. I mean, it would have been awkward if you hadn't recognized my voice because of some strange distortion because of the phone connection. That happens a lot, even with today's technology."

"_I guess..._"

"No, really. It would have been extremely awkward if you'd thought I was someone else—say, a girlfriend. If you have a girlfriend. Not that I'm saying you couldn't. You very well might, which is why I'm saying it could have been awkward—especially if it was the other way around, and it was your girlfriend, but you thought it was me and you'd said what you just did. That could have thrown things off right there. People need to learn to properly supply their name when they make a call. Many a relationship might be saved that way."

Jess sighed on the other end of the line. "_You haven't changed, have you_?"

"I'd like to think I've become a little older, a little wiser..."

"_Do you need something_?" he quipped.

Rory scowled, not quite surprised that he wasn't going along with the attempt at witty banter, but still hurt nonetheless.

She let out a breath and stared at the couch cushions, absently picking at the edge of one of them. "Look...I'm sorry about what happened last time we saw each other. It was wrong to even entertain the _thought_ of using you like that. I don't know what I was thinking; I was just angry at Logan, and..."

"_You don't have to explain. I get it_," he answered with a little more feeling.

"I don't think you do yet. I really am sorry."

Another pause. "_I believe you_," he said finally.

Rory waited a moment before asking the next question. "Then do you forgive me?"

"_I don't know yet_."

"I guess that's fair."

"_How's blond-dick-from-Yale these days, anyway_?" Jess asked suddenly.

The familiar twinge in her chest went off—the one that she had never been able to quite define...absence of Logan, presence of regret or lonliness, or just memory? Or was it all of the above?

"Blond-dick-from-Yale walked away almost two years ago," she deadpanned, feeling the sudden anger that sparked sometimes. It was never so bad anymore. She was reasonably sure she'd moved on. That didn't mean she didn't think about it all sometimes.

Her answer spurned a much longer pause than she'd gotten yet. "_Oh. I'm sorry_."

He wasn't, but it didn't bother her. "It was a long time ago." It did seem like that sometimes, but not always. Jess didn't need to know that, though.

They both fell silent again, until Rory cleared her throat and jumped back in. "Anyway, apparently you know about the wedding, since you're supposed to be the best men. I'm the maid of honor, and I guess I just figured the best man and maid of honor should at least be one speaking terms, seeing as by tradition the best man is the maid of honor's escort..."

"_And all that jazz_," he finished dryly. "_Yeah, I guess that makes sense_."

Rory nodded out of habit, even though he couldn't see her. "Right. So _are _you coming to the wedding? Do we have a definite answer on that?"

"_Yeah, I'm coming_."

She realized she was chewing her lip, and stopped. "Then...can we try it? The being-on-speaking-terms part?"

There was yet another long wait for an answer, but when it came Jess's voice had finally warmed. "_Yeah. We can try it_."

"Good," Rory answered, and tried to match his level of warmth without shooting over or falling under. It was progress, but still she could see that this phone idea wasn't working out so well. "Maybe the rest of this can wait until you get here..."

"_Maybe it should_," he agreed.

"Okay."

"_I'm flying in next Saturday_," he supplied.

"Oh. Okay." Two days before the wedding the following Monday.

"_Right, so...see you then_?"

"See you then," she nodded.

"_Bye, Rory_."

"Bye."

The connection broke, and she was left staring at the phone in her hands, realizing that she hadn't even brought up the book.

Then again, maybe that wasn't really why she'd called, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Here ya go guys! More excitement for ya...and please do review if you like it, so I know if there's enough interesting to write this whole thing. :) Anyway, thanks so much to those of you who are reviewing! Love you guys! :) All right, enjoy this chapter then. have a good night.

Chapter 3

The next week brought an increasing amount of excitement across the entirety of Stars Hollow. The cementing of the Luke/Lorelai relationship was something that had long been both anticipated and dreaded in equal parts through town.

Those that loved them couldn't be happier, and those inclined to be more cynical pointed out that their actually being married would only make it even worse for the rest of the town if they ever broke again.

Lorelai pretended she didn't hear these things, but she did. For once though, they didn't bother her. It had taken too many years, but the insecurity was gone.

She and Luke were going to work. They were getting married, and it was going to last.

"Are you guys planning on having kids? What happens then? I hope I'm not still here then, but what if I am? Would I seriously have to share a room at—well, I'd be twenty-five by then. That would just be awkward."

Lorelai scowled up from her paper and her pop-tart. "Excuse me?"

Rory, still in pajama bottoms and tank top, dropped into the chair opposite her. "Kids. Do you and Luke want to have kids?"

"Well we figured we'd get past the getting-married part first, since neither of us did that the first time around."

"You know what I mean."

Lorelai raised an eyebrow. "That's a little straightforward, honey."

"Well I'd like to know as soon as possible if I'm going to have to get used to the idea of having new siblings _now_. At my age."

"You sound like you're getting old or something. Should I find a cane? You'd better let me know now, 'cause if I do I should probably find two, seeing as I'm sixteen years older."

"Hardy har har."

"We haven't really talked about it," Lorelai shrugged. Not recently, anyway.

"You _never_ talked about it?"

"Well..."

Rory perked up a little. "What?"

"We did, some...right after we got engaged the first time. We both wanted kids then."

"Well that's good. I think you _should_ have your own if you want to; I was just curious..."

"Rory, that was almost four years ago."

"So?"

"So I'm not sure if we're both in the same place anymore."

Rory frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Lorelai took a bite of her pop-tart before answering. "Sweetie, as much as I'd like to pretend I've been twenty-nine for the past eleven years, I'll be forty in a few weeks."

"People over forty have kids all the time. So you'll have been a really young mother and really old mother; so what?"

Lorelai shot her a look.

"A really young mother and a not-as-young mother," her daughter quickly corrected.

"There you go. Anyway, I just don't know. Let Luke and I figure this one out for ourselves, ok?"

"Me and Luke."

"Whatever."

Lorelai had been suspicious for several minutes, but Rory allowing her head to drop to her arms on the table was the tip-off. "You, my dear, are just trying to distract yourself, aren't you?"

"What would I be trying to distract myself from?" she asked, clearly in denial.

"The fact that we have to be at the diner in an hour to meet Luke when he gets back from picking Jess up at the airport—which means seeing Jess."

Rory grunted inarticulately.

"I thought that phone call went well?"

"It went _not-so-bad_," she corrected. "As in not horrible, but not great, either. I have no idea how he's going to react when he sees me."

"Well how do you plan to react when you see _him_?"

Rory just stared at her. "I don't know," she said finally.

"Gotta have a plan, honey," Lorelai reminded her gently.

"I _know_, I know...but I don't know how I want to react. I guess I forgave him years ago, for running off and everything...I mean, we were eighteen, and _he_ didn't know what he was doing any more than _I_ knew what the hell I was doing dating him, so..."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

"And he's done well for himself. I should be happy for him. I _am_ happy for him. I just...I'm worried he might still have a reason to hate _me_."

Now this she hadn't heard. "What do you mean?"

Rory grimaced. "Uhm...Luke wasn't exactly around for _everything_ that happened when I showed up at that press Jess works at in Philadelphia..."

"Something else happened?" Lorelai asked. Her chest clenched, as it always did, as if in preparation to ache in sympathy if need be.

"Something _almos_t happened," her daughter corrected.

The clench eased, but was still poised and ready to come back. "Oh?"

"Let's just say I was angry at Logan at the time, and I wasn't thinking straight, and...I don't know. It was stupid. But nothing really happened. We just didn't part on the best of terms is all."

"Oh...I didn't know."  
"It's okay. I didn't really want anyone to know." Rory sighed, planted her hand flat on the table and pushed herself to her feet. "I need coffee."

"Wow, you got through all that without it?"

"I don't understand it either. I think that just means I'll need even more now," she said sagely, pulling a large mug from the cabinet and filling it to the brim from the coffee pot.

"I'm glad to see all those months on the road haven't changed you too much."

"Of course they haven't. I wouldn't be myself without my daily overdose of caffeine."

Lorelai held up a finger for attention. "Just remember, missy—maybe you're more of a guest now, but the same rules apply. Watch the pot. You finish it, you make another one."

Her daughter held up the pot, which had barely a swallow of coffee still swishing in the bottom that she may or may not have intentionally left. "You have fun making that new batch, then," she said, putting the pot back where it belonged.

"I have taught you well."

Rory finally smiled, and Lorelai was satisfied in having done her motherly duty for the moment.

* * *

Rory stopped just around the corner from the diner.

"You okay?" her mother asked immediately.

"I don't know."

"I guess we don't have to go in there right this second..."

"Good."

Lorelai crossed her arms in confusion. "You want to wait a little while, or...?"

"I don't know," she repeated.

"Honey, I'm gonna need an answer on this one. You _do_ know you'll have to see him eventually..."

Rory let out a breath. "I know." She grimaced and composed herself, not quite sure what was worrying her. "Fine. Let's go," she said. But she was certain she sounded like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

Lorelai took her arm and led her around to the door of the diner, which hadn't opened that morning. Caesar would keep the place running while Luke and Lorelai were on their honeymoon, but Luke hadn't the wanted the place packed full of much-too-curious townspeople when he brought Jess from the airport. Despite the 'Closed' sign the door was opened, and Lorelai pushed through and pulled Rory gently with her.

"Bonjour, boys! We have arrived!" she called enthusiastically.

But they weren't there.

"Well, that didn't go as planned."

Rory couldn't help but smirk, until movement t the door that lead upstairs caught her eye, and Luke and Jess emerged. The 'hey' was out of her before she could stop it.

Jess lagged behind Luke, looking a little uncomfortable himself. "Hey."

"Hi..." Another greeting wasn't necessary, but it was all that came out. Jess just looked at her for a moment, and she tried to smile. She should smile. They'd known each other a long time. They should be friends if they could be, right?

Then Jess took a few steps closer and held out an arm, and it seemed he was thinking the same thing.

Rory's smile relaxed, and she slipped briefly under the offered arm for a casual-enough hug.

"We're good," he said in her ear when she was close enough, under Luke and Lorelai's collective radar. It didn't take long to gather it was his way of saying he forgave her, that all was tentatively right with their world.

They both let go, and Lorelai nodded to him. "Jess."

"Lorelai," he nodded back. He held out a hand and shook hers. "Congratulations."

"You give the bride best wishes," Luke corrected with a smirk.

Jess looked at him. "What?"

"Ignore him. I've forced him to keep me company at dinner at my parents' house a few too many times," Lorelai answered.

Jess shook his head and turned to Rory. "You want to get out of here?"

It was much too obvious that Luke and her mother would much rather be alone, and she had no choice but to agree. "I believe I do."

Jess started to turn down the main street once they were out of the diner—and Luke and Lorelai were already on their way upstairs—but Rory quickly turned him around. "Other way."

"Why?"

"Trust me; the gossip circle in this town hasn't gotten any better, and neither has the audacity of _anyone_ who's curious about _anything_. They _will_ badger us until we go clinically insane if they see us together."

"Wow, I'm really feeling your confidence in me."

Rory smirked. "There's nothing wrong with _you _that I know of, but there's definitely something wrong with them. Like I said, trust me. Every single one of them still wants to know everything."

"Ah. I see. So it's not being ashamed of me; it's wanting to protect me."

"_And_ myself, and _you_ are stalling," she shot back, guiding them on a path that would lead them behind most of the town and through the more remote area where the inn was located.

"What am I stalling?"

"The subject." Jess only raised an eyebrow, and she pulled his book from her purse and presented it to him. "This, oh brilliant one."

He took it after a moment. "Right. That."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know if you wanted to hear from me," he protested.

"I'm the one who screwed up, Jess. I was worried _you_ would never want to see _me_ again."

He shrugged wordlessly, and she sighed and crossed her arms uncomfortably.

"So what now?"Rory asked.

"After this wedding I'll be back in Philadelphia; we don't necessarily _have_ to do anything."

"I know, we won't really see each other much and all, but your uncle _is_ marrying my mother, after all. We _will_ see each other."

"Yeah..."

She didn't say anything else, waiting for a more definitive answer.

"I've got no objections to being friends, if that's what you're asking," Jess said finally.

"If-we-see-each-other-in-the-street-we-stop-and-talk-cordially-for-a-few-minutes type friends, or we-actually-make-an-effort-to-hang-out-or-at-least-talk-to-each-other-sometimes type friends?" She wasn't even sure which _she _preferred, but she knew she didn't want him to leave in a few days and never speak to her again.

He looked at her for a moment as if thinking, and finally shrugged again. "Why don't we just see what happens?"

Rory realized she was chewing her lip, and stopped. "I guess..."

Silence fell, and Jess was the first to speak up.

"Blond-dick-from-Yale is definitely gone, right?"

Her eyebrows went up. "Yeah...he's definitely gone," she answered slowly, unable to avoid the pang once again.

"Good. He really ticked me off."

Rory laughed. "Come on; my mom's inn is right up here. I don't think you've seen it yet."

"Oh yeah, the one with, like, the bug name or something. Luke's mentioned it."

"The Dragonfly."

"Yeah, that's it. This I have to see, as a guy—a place named after a bug."

"But it's a girly bug," she protested.

"But it's a bug."

"Well Mom and Sookie and the designers definitely went with the girly thing."

"Damn."

* * *

Lorelai groaned, holding her head in her hands as she sat at the dressing table in the back room of Stars Hollow's church. "I can't believe it. We had the bachelorette party an extra night early _again_, and the hangover is still lingering. Again."

"At least this time you're actually getting married," Rory commented, putting the final touches on positioning her mother's veil and making sure the strapless dress was straight. "And this time you don't have to be driving. We're not on way to who-knows-where. That's all a plus last time I checked."

"You're right," she sighed. After a moment Lorelai abruptly sat up. "Oh god Rory what the hell am I doing?"

"What?"

Her mother pulled her down on the stool next to her. "What am I doing?" she demanded urgently. "After all the relational failure how can I think I can make a _marriage_ work? It's not even the first one! I couldn't stay married to your dad, and I've known him since I was six! What if something goes wrong again? Another kid comes out of the woodwork or he gets bored with me, or—"

"Whoa!" Rory took her mother's bare shoulders and squeezed. "Mom, calm down! Remember a week-and-a-half ago? How excited you were when you showed me the dress? This is going to work, Mom. You and Luke are going to be fine."

"How do you know?" Lorelai asked quietly, and Rory realized she was dangerously close to crying.

"I know the same way you know...because Luke loves you, and you love him. He waited forever for you; he is _not_ going to get bored. If you guys don't grow old together I will kick both of your butts, you hear me?"

Lorelai laughed, the unshed tears retreating. "That's the daughter I raised."

"And hey, if you did that, you can do this."

Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her cheek. "I love you, kiddo. Now go wait for your grandparents for me."

"They're late."

"I think they're flight from Paris was delayed. I couldn't quite understand Mom's message; she was freaking out _just _a bit."

"Not quite a common occurrence for Emily Gilmore."

Lorelai smiled. "As _insane_ as she's been all my life, apparently she does care if she makes it to her daughter's waiting."

"Awwww..."

"Shut up and go wait for your grandparents."

"What about Sookie? Jackson and the kids are already out there, but I haven't seen her."

"I'm sure she's been in the kitchen at the inn all night. Don't worry about her; she'll be here. Now go, before I _kick_ you out there. If you're not outside where they can see you the moment they get here—you, the triumphant returnee—you know at least Emily will bitch about it later. Go. Get."

Rory backed away and bowed low. "Yes, mi-lady." She bumped into Sookie, who was coming in, apologized and hurried outside, content that her mother wouldn't be left to stress out any further on her own, if indeed she did begin to stress again. With any luck that part was over. If not, she was more than confident that Sookie could handle it.

Barely thirty minutes before the ceremony was due to begin the Gilmore's Jaguar pulled up to the curb behind the church.

"Okay, so I guess there was a _little bit_ of method to my madness," Lorelai had admitted the day after Rory had returned. "Mom and Dad are actually on their spring trip to Europe, and I guess I felt a little bit guilty that she wouldn't _be_ here to help organize anything for the wedding, so I agreed to let her work with Sookie and do whatever she could do over the phone from there..."

Rory had to admit that her mother's agreeing to let Emily help at _all_ made much more sense that way. It worked out about right, too. For certain there was plenty of white toole and more than enough flowers, and particular silver and china had been shipped to the inn to be used for the reception, but all in all it wasn't so bad. Not overboard.

"Rory!" Emily called immediately. "It's so good to see you—" She cut off and turned to her husband as he climbed out behind her. "Richard, is there time for you to find somewhere else to park that thing?" She glanced at her watch. "Of course there isn't. Well, just make certain it's locked."

"Of _course_ I will make sure it's locked, Emily," he grumbled. Then he saw his granddaughter, and his face brightened. "Rory!"

"Hi, Grandpa," she smiled, hurrying up to hug him. "Come on; we've got to get you two inside. Grandma, there's a seat saved for both of you in the front. I'd show you to it if I had time, but I have to get Grandpa where he needs to be. It'll be obvious, I promise. Every other seat in there is taken. I think Lane and Zach are holding down the fort for you."

"That Korean friend of yours?"

"And her husband, yeah." Rory gave her grandmother a quick hug. "Go on."

Emily reached up to check her hair. "I hate being rushed like this. Those airlines should really get their act together. We barely had time to get home and cleaned up and changed..." But she didn't seem entirely unhappy, and she did head inside as asked. Amazing.

Richard Gilmore chuckled as his wife disappeared around the side of the church. He took Rory's arms as she steered them toward the back door. "I must say I'm that you're home on a slightly more permanent basis."

"Thanks, Grandpa. Me too; I think I've had enough moving around for a while."

"But of course you'll want to get your journalism career on the move."

"Oh, definitely. A few weeks here won't hurt me, though. Besides that, I'm fairly certain Mom would kill me if I didn't stay for a while," she smirked.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the door, but strangely enough it was Richard who hesitated before it.

"What is it?"

He took a deep breath. "Well...considering the past twenty-five years, I'm not sure I was ever certain I'd be here for this—much less be allowed to walk your mother down the aisle."

Rory squeezed his arm. "She wants you to, Grandpa. Get in there."

Richard smiled and patted the hand on his arm, and let her show him to the room where his daughter was waiting.

"Dad...hey," Lorelai smiled tentatively. She seemed calm now, thank goodness, and Sookie was still there, in a purple dress that matched Rory's.

"Lorelai." At first he'd lost the smile to something akin to nervousness, but he slowly gained it again as he took his daughter's hands and held her arms out to look at her. For a moment he seemed unable to say speak. "You look beautiful," he managed finally.

"Aw, Dad..."

Rory retreated, sure she wouldn't be able to keep from crying at least a little if she stayed. Instead she backtracked down the hall to the door that hid the men, and Jess was coming out as she came up. The voices on the other side weren't exactly quiet.

"He's freaking out, too?"

Jess scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Oh, yeah. TJ's in there working on the calming him down part. I'm not all that great at that stuff..." he sighed. "I guess the guy's not so bad."

"Who, TJ?"

"Yeah. I guess you didn't hear that I never exactly liked the fact Liz was marrying him."

"You right; I didn't hear that one."

"Now you have."

"I guess so." She rocked back on her heels. "We'd probably better make sure we're ready to get where we're supposed to be."

Jess nodded. "Here's to not screwing this up."

Rory chuckled. "Amen."

* * *

The service went off without a hitch, thank god. Both bride and groom were calm, if still a little nervous about _actually doing this_, and Lorelai looked happy to be on her father's arm. Jess and TJ stood behind Luke, and Rory and Sookie with Lorelai. It seemed the whole town was present, and there was a mountain of presents back at the inn to prove it.

Rory couldn't have asked for better for her mother.

Luke and Lorelai left first. His truck had been left at the front curb for them, and they headed off for the inn. Then everyone else either started walking or headed for their cars, and Rory would have ridden with her grandparents if Jess hadn't caught up with her.

"Come on, that's no fun; let's walk."

She wanted to get there quickly, but then again Lorelai would probably be too wrapped up in her new husband to notice if she was ten minutes later or so. So she sent Emily and Richard on and agreed.

Rory expected a nice walked in the spring air, a little good exercise—which made her glad she'd worn comfortable low platforms, not heels—and some pleasant conversation, even if it was bound to be awkward at first. They were still working on getting over that, but they'd do it if this friend thing was meant to work.

What she didn't expect was the figure she spotted escaping across the square.

She stopped dead at the edge of the church yard, staring, telling herself that her eyes had to be deceiving her.

"Rory?" Jess asked.

The shoulders seemed a little broader...more muscled than before, she guessed, just like the rest of the body looked to be, but it was the gait and the back of the head that she couldn't mistake.

"Rory, what is it?"

"Stay here," she said.

"What?"

"I'll be back, I promise. Just promise _me_ you'll stay right here."

He finally seemed to catch what she was looking at, and his brow furrowed immediately. "What the hell..."

"Just stay here," she repeated.

"Rory—"

"I'll be back!" she promised again, and hurried off across the road and into square after the figure she still wasn't sure she was seeing. Jess, bless him, stayed put.

"Wait!" she called after the retreating form.

He didn't respond until the third time she called, as if trying to ignore her, but finally he froze and waited for her to catch up. They were by a bench on the other side of the square by the time Rory came up from behind, and he reluctantly turned to face her.

"Dean."


	4. Chapter 4

Here you are! We are skipping some time when the next chapter begins...you'll probably gather where I'll be skipping to as you read. ;) Enjoy! And please do review; it helps so much and I love you all. Thanks! :)

Chapter 4

Dean gave something between a smile and a grimace and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hi...Rory."

She tried not to openly gape, and barely succeeded. "It's been a while."

"It sure has," he conceded.

She cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder at the church, as if just remembering why they were—both, obviously—there. "So what are you...?"

"Apparently this whole thing was all over town," he explained. "My mom mentioned it offhand in an e-mail and...I thought I should try to come, I guess. I mean, I've known Lorelai about as long as I've known you, and she was always, you know, nice..."

Even after everything that had happened, he meant. What they'd done. Rory supposed that was true. Lorelai had attempted to put her misgiviungs aside and make Dean comfortable in their lives again until the very end. Farther back than that, she'd always maintained friendly contact whether Rory had been with him at the time or not.

Rory didn't like to think about it that way, but her mother had probably been a better friend to Dean than she ever had—when the going got tough, anyway. Which was what counted.

She had to swallow before she could answer. "Right. Yeah. I understand. I'm glad you could make it, then..." It was hollow, what she _should_ say. She didn't know what she _wanted_ to say. She was having trouble sorting through her thoughts at the moment, and it wasn't only the emotional ambiguity, either.

Dean was a man now. That much was certain, at least physically. He'd filled out the lanky frame, and the teenage gangliness was gone forever. The suit wasn't expensive, but it made him look better than _anything_ he'd ever worn in the past. It didn't hang off of him, like everything had back then. It _fit_ him. Then again, he'd been something of a string bean in the past too. He'd _begun_ to grow out of it the last time she'd seen him, nearly five years ago, and more time had aided him well in that respect. He'd been cute then, undeniably cute, but _now_ he was—

Rory stopped those thoughts before they could get any farther. This was not the time, and...she had no right to them anymore.

"Thanks," he answered, almost as tonelessly as she. Then it was his turn to swallow, and his voice returned with more feeling. "Look, I'm sorry...I didn't want to show up and make things weird for you. That's why I tried to stay out of sight."

She jumped at the opportunity to animate the conversation. "And just how did you manage to do that by the way? How do you keep six-feet-four-inches of _anything_ out of sight in that church for an hour?"

In the past he would have laughed out loud, but now Dean only smiled a little, and looked unsure as to wehether or not he should have been doing _that_.

Why did that hurt?

He shrugged. "Well I doubt anyone was looking for me."

"True..."

"So uh...how are you doing? I heard about your getting that campaign job, but beyond that..."

He'd heard about that? How? Was that through his parents, too? How well was he getting along with his parents anyway? How was he period? All things she wanted to know, but couldn't just ask.

"Nothing new. That job's over, and I'm home right now. I'm looking for another one. I'd like to get a job at an actual paper, seeing as the other job was only an online publication and all. I mean it was great, but—"

"You need to get your career moving."

"Right. At least I hope I can..."

It had slipped out before she meant it to, the insecurity. She hadn't told anyone about that, and here she was seeing Dean for the first time in years and she'd just—

Oh god, what was wrong with her?

His eyebrows went up. "I'm sure you'll do fine," he said earnestly. "You'll find something."

"I hope so. It may take time though." She crossed her arms and shrugged, forcing herself not to stare at the ground. "But I've got home here. I'll be fine."

Dean smiled again, but there was pain in it this time. "Yeah."

Damnit. The intention had been to assure him she would be all right, not to hurt him. But it had, somehow. Rory winced and chewed the inside of her lip, searching for something else to say.

She hadn't seen Dean since he'd driven away five years ago, from her grandparents' house. Well, she'd _seen_ him...from afar—through the front window of Doose's, or down the street working a job for Tom. But they had only made eye contact a handful of times, quite by accident, and they hadn't said a word to each other. That was when she caught glimpses of him at all. Then, her senior year at Yale, he'd disappeared altogether, finally off to college again, and she'd thought that would be the end of it.

"What about you?" she asked finally. "I heard you went back to Southern Connecticut State."

"Yeah," he nodded. "New Haven's not far, but it's...away. I saved and applied for financial aid until I had enough to get a dorm when I left. I found a couple of jobs over there and I just kind of stayed." _Because it was easier than being here._ He didn't have to say the rest for her to hear it.

"School, then. How's that going?"

"Good, I guess," he nodded. "I'm not quite a straight-A student, but I'm higher on the curve than I was in high school, if that's what you mean."

"I didn't really mean anything, I-I was just—"

"It's okay."

Rory let out a breath. "Anything else interesting?" Why was she still asking questions? It should have been yes, they were both fine, see you later. It was the way people who hadn't seen each other in a long time and didn't really speak did things.

But they were both still standing there, and she knew Jess couldn't hear them and maybe he wasn't even watching, but he was back there _somewhere_ waiting for her, and...

"Not really," Dean answered. "Not much happens these days; school, work, homework..." He didn't look quite as tense as he had when she'd first caught up to him, but he was by no means relaxed, either. Maybe he was trying to put forth a front of looking like it, but it wasn't fooling her.

That, and right now she knew he was hiding something.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Rory looked at him for a long moment, and realized that suddenly he seemed like he wanted to bolt. "Girlfriend?" she asked quietly.

He winced involuntarily. "Not exactly. It's nothing serious yet."

But _yet_ implied that there could be, and now why the hell did _that _bother her?

"Oh...well, good luck then....I mean in school, too."

"Thanks. Best wishes on the job hunting..."

"Thanks."

Yes, they were both still standing there, but the conversation was still unbearably basic. What else could they say to each other though? He was there, and she was here, and maybe with Jess friendship was possible, but that just wasn't going to happen here too, was it? There was too much bad. Too much of the wrong type of bad. That was why she'd never tracked him down. She'd known just where to look for him, but she'd never called. She'd thought it was finally just too much. There couldn't be anything there if there couldn't be everything. She'd thought she'd be fine, eventually, even if she never saw him again.

She had been fine, too. She _was_ fine...but having Dean standing right here in front of her made her realize that she _wanted_ to see him. She didn't know why—just for the sake of the past, or otherwise—but she wanted to, at least as much as she wanted to make certain Jess didn't disappear, either.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, then down at his watch. "Rory, I should probably go; I have a class later this afternoon."

"Class! Right, it's Monday. God you didn't skip classes to come, did you?"

He smiled a bit at her energetic reaction. "One, but don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"It's not a big deal." He began to take a few steps backward to go.

"Dean, wait." He paused and looked at her, waiting for her to speak. Her hands twisted together in front of her, because she didn't know what else to do with with them. "Do you...have an e-mail address? Or a number, or...something?" She couldn't be sure she would use either if she had them, but she had to ask. She couldn't just let him leave. It seemed wrong.

He opened his mouth as if to answer, but closed it again and seemed to think twice. "Rory, I...I don't know if that's..."

He didn't think it was a good idea. He didn't want to give them to her. It hurt, but Rory swallowed her pride and tried hard to accept it. "Never mind. I'm glad you're doing all right."

"You too." At least that much seemed sincere. Dean looked away for a moment and shrugged. "If you don't want to tell Luke and Lorelai I was here, you don't have to...but if you do, tell them congratulations for me?"

Rory nodded mechanically. "I will. I'll tell them."

"Thanks..." He sighed and started to turn away again. "Goodbye, Rory."

"Bye, Dean."

He looked at her before he really turned—really _looked_ at her. It seemed like maybe he wanted to say something else.

_Don't tell me I look good, don't tell me I look good, don't tell me I look good..._

She didn't want to hear that again.

"I'm coming home this summer," he offered finally.

Rory blinked. "You are?"

"I haven't really been back since I left, and every summer Clara begs me to stay at home for at least a little while, but I haven't. I guess it's just time. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Sure. Maybe." She hoped so. Or at least she thought she did.

Then Dean waved and walked away.

Rory couldn't watch him leave, so instead she turned on her heel and fled back to the church as fast as she could go without _looking_ like she was fleeing. Just in case.

Jess wasn't under the tree where she'd left him, and she circled the church twice but found no sign. With no other option she headed for, and found him halfway there, poking along at the pace of a sad snail.

"Jess?"

"What was he doing here?"

She let out a breath and fell in beside him. "I'm not clear on that myself." Jess only snorted, but didn't say anything. He sped up to a normal pace and she walked beside him anxiously, wondering if something as simple as this was going to set them back.

"I'm not mad," he said finally.

Rory smirked. "You would have been before. Even though it's no one's fault that he just decided to come—and for my mother's sake, not mine—you still would have been."

"Seven or eight years ago, yeah," he admitted. "That was when I didn't know there would be no point. You go after what you want; it doesn't matter what the rest of us do."

Well, that stung a bit. "He has a girlfriend," she answered defensively.

"That's not what I meant—not about right now..." He grimaced. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. "

Her jaw worked, because she _knew _what he meant. But she cross her arms again, tightly around herself, and let it go. The past was the past, and she couldn't change her mistakes or her choices now.

They walked in silence for several minutes.

"Hey, if it diffuses the awkwardness any, we're related now," she pointed out finally.

"Only by marriage, so not technically."

"No, but if you don't _want_ to be technical about it, I am now your first cousin."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Not helping; that's even weirder."

Rory laughed weakly and looked up to catch a flash of yellow, the inn in the distance. "We're almost there."

"I noticed."

They both stopped just short of the clearing, the inn's drive, and she looked at him. "Are we still good?"

"I don't see any reason why we wouldn't be; unless you're mad at me for that admittedsly uncalled-for crack back there."

She looked at him for a moment, and believed that he really was sorry.

Even if what he'd said had held some truth.

"No. I'm not angry. We're good," she promised.

"Great." He motioned through the last of the shrubbery to the inn and the commotion bursting from within. The doors were open, tables and guests were set up out in the circle drive, and music blared through the doors and windows from the front room. The party had taken over the place, but it wasn't at all unpleasant. "After you."

* * *

The only thing that made Lorelai happier was when her daughter finally appeared at the reception.

"Where have you been! We had to hold off on all the traditional mumbo-jumbo until you got here," she complained smilingly.

Rory hugged her tightly. "Sorry, Mom. I walked, and before that I got a little held up back at the church."

"Everything all right?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, everything's fine." maybe the answer was a little_ too _quick, but she seemed all right and Lorelai was in no frame of mind to pshyco-analyze her now. "You sure?"

"I'm sure! Let's party," she grinned.

"Agreed." The space between the tables was being used as a dance floor, and Luke pulled himself and his sister out to greet Rory and Jess. Liz dragged her son back out into the middle and Luke chuckled and offered a hand to Rory.

"Well, since my own sister abandoned me..."

"I'll dance with you, Luke," she finished gallantly.

"You'd better do it while you can; if I have it my way I will never dance like this again."

Lorelai smirked. "Don't count on it, honey. We're married now. You have to keep me haaaapy, and to keep me happy you have to take me dancing."

Luke rolled his eyes and stole a quick kiss from his snarky wife before Rory took his proffered hand and they both hurried off—possibly to get away from her, though only in the most playful of ways, of course.

Sookie was at her side in a moment. "Oh, Lorelai, this is so perfect," she sighed excitedly. "You and Luke are going to be so happy, and he loves Rory to death, and it's just...perfect! It'd only be more perfect if you had your own. Oh, are you going to? Have you talked about that yet?"

"Whoa, slow down Sookie. I got married all of an hour ago." There was that subject again. Why couldn't anyone just leave it alone?

"I'm sorry, really, but these kinds of things just get me so excited for the future, and...well, you know me."

"Yes, dear, I know you," Lorelai smiled.

Sookie dropped it there, and the crisis was averted...almost. It was too late; now she was thinking about it. Because they hadn't talked about it again. Not at all, really, since that night after their first engagement. That seemed so long ago now. She had no idea what Luke wanted now, and she wasn't even sure what _she _wanted.

But they could worry about that later. For she had her daughter home, and she had Luke. She had _all_ of Luke, and that was more than enough.

* * *

Since Luke and Lorelai weren't heading out in his boat until the next morning, they had reserved the best room at the inn for themselves that night to avoid having to kick Rory out of her own house for a night. The end result was that Rory had the house to herself, and she would for the next couple of weeks.

That would be good. Very conducive to working and getting out more resumes. The more she sent out, the more chance she had of finding a job closer to home—which she wanted, at least for now. Maybe the adventurous young woman in her wanted to get out and away, and someday she would...but the mama's girl in her was winning as of now. What was the harm in that, anyway? She could be out and on her own and still close enough to home to not feel disconnected.

That was what she'd achieved by going to Yale 23 miles away. If she'd done it then, she could do it now.

Rory was up late, too happy for her mother and Luke to avoid being drawn to watch romantic old movies on the flatscreen in the living room until the wee hours. She fell asleep on the couch remembering the look on Dean's face before he left.

She woke with a jolt the next morning to a knock on the door, and padded in her pajama pants and tank top to the front door to find Jess on the other side. The sun streamed in brightly from behind him. "Ugh...what time is it?" she mumbled.

"You have half an hour until we have to meet Luke and Lorelai at the end to send them off."

Rory snapped around, looking for a clock and realizing they didn't have one in the entryway. "What! Oh no; I overslept."

"Stayed up late watching old movies?"

She glared at him, but sighed after a moment and opened the door farther. "You can wait in the living room; I'll be back." With that she retreated to her room, dressed, and ran upstairs to the bathroom to take care of business and do _something_ with her hair. Luckily she'd washed it before the wedding just the morning before, and it looked fine half up.

By the time she made it back downstairs, where Jess was leaning against the back of the couch, they had less than ten minutes before Luke and Lorelai were expecting them. "Come on; we'll take my car." It would have to be backed out of the garage where it had been sitting—except for the longer breaks—for almost two years, but it was otherwise recently gassed up and ready to go. Luke had made sure of that before she got home.

Luke and Lorelai were out at the front of the inn when they arrived, dressed in jeans for the road and with Luke's truck packed. They had already said goodbye to everyone else the night before; Rory and Jess were the only two here this morning.

Lorelai quietly asked if Rory was all right, because apparently she'd seen something a bit off with her daughter when she'd shown up at the reception the day before, but Rory assured her that it was nothing. There was no reason to tell her about Dean just yet; maybe that was a little too much to think or be curious about over a honeymoon

"Take care of yourselves, you guys," Rory made them promise as she hugged them both.

"Have fun while we're gone," Lorelai instructed. "Maybe you can break down and finally have that wild party at the house."

"I'll see what I can do."

Luke smirked. "Keep an eye on Caesar for me."

"Oh, you bet. I'll need my coffee every morning, after all." She hugged her mother again, as tightly as she could. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

"Hey, who's the mom here?" Lorelai whispered back in amusement. Then she was serious again. "Thanks for everything, kid."

Rory kissed her mother on the cheek, and Lorelai returned the gesture before she finally let go and latched an arm around her husband's waist.

"Time to get moving, oh gorgeous one," she announced.

Luke turned to return the embrace. "Oh, so I'm gorgeous now, too?"

"I wouldn't have married you if you weren't pretty."

"Uh huh." He probably would have kissed her, but it Jess complained.

"Seriously, guys, save it for the trip." Rory smothered a grin as they finally conceded and climbed into the truck, Lorelai waving until they were out of sight.

Rory dropped her own arm as Jess spoke up. "That's my cue."

"What?"

He pulled a plane ticket from his pocket. "My turn. I've got a flight out in four hours."

She blinked at him. "So soon?"

"Hey, when I booked this as soon as I heard about the wedding, I didn't know you'd even be talking to me," he answered.

"Can't you change it? You could hang around a few days."

He sighed. "It's the middle of the season, Rory. I've got to get back to Philly; we have work to do at the press, I have to get around to promote that second book...It's not perfect, but it's better, and I'm trying to get it a couple of chain stores this time. Smaller ones, but chain stores nontheless."

"That would be good..." she admitted.

"Yes, it would. But hey...I'll call."

Rory stared at him hard for a moment. "You _promise_ you'll call? A friend's not worth much if they never call."

"I'll call," Jess insisted.

It took another moment to decide to do it, but she hugged him too. He returned it. "You'd better," she said firmly. She sighed and let go of him. "Let's go get your stuff; I'll take you to the airport."

"You don't have to do that; I made sure I had money for a cab on the way back."

"Well while I'm here and I have a car I'm not going to let you spend that money," Rory insisted.

"Only if you're sure you don't mind taking me."

She gave him a look. "You know, I would be a much happier person as of late if people would stop asking whether I'm sure about things or not," she answered lightly.

Jess shrugged. "All right, all right," he laughed. "Let's go."

"Yes, let's."


	5. Chapter 5

Here ya go! Sorry, had a big math test this week...Anyway, now that it's here I hope you enjopy it. I can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 5

May 2009

"_Are you sure you don't want us to come back sometime soon and help you unpack more_?"

"Mom, I think you guys have done enough. Thanks again for the furniture, by the way."

"_Don't mention it_," Lorelai answered from the other end of the phone line. "_None of it was doing anybody any good sitting out in the garage or upstairs at Luke's anyway_."

Rory smiled and looked again over her half-unpacked apartment. It was small, barely four rooms—the bedroom, bathroom, main room, and kitchen area that wasn't quite separate—and not the newest building in Hartford, but it was close to home and it was relatively cheap. She could handle it decently with her salary from her newly acquired position at the Hartford Courant. It had come with appliances, and it helped, too, that most of the furniture had come from family and friends—mostly her mother and Luke.

Which meant that half of the furniture she had known since she was eleven. Lorelai had given her all of the furniture that had been replaced during the remodel after her and Luke's first engagement. The round kitchen table and the chairs that had gone with it, the white lumpy couch that held so many memories, and her mother's old full-sized bed were all hers, along with the couch and desk from Luke's apartment over the diner and her own dresser and mirror from her old room. Lorelai wouldn't let her take any more than that, as she insisted that room had to be ready to accommodate Rory on visits.

"Besides, as a mother don't I have a right to want to keep my little girl's room mostly unchanged for a while?" she'd said teasingly.

Rory hadn't argued. She was just glad to have gotten at least her dresser out of there.

Some of the furniture her grandmother had bought her for college had made it here, too—the chairs and armchairs and the entertainment center with all it contained. By the end she hadn't needed to buy much, and she was more than glad that there had been no need to ship it all halfway across the country.

"I still don't understand why you made me take both couches."

She could just hear her mother grinning. "_Well, you know Luke—he had to keep his leather chair, but he wanted to contribute somehow_."

"The desk would have been enough. It's a good desk."

"_You now have two couches; why are you complaining_?"

"I'm not," she chuckled, dropping onto the nearest of said couches, which happened to have been Luke's brown one."

There was silence on the line for a moment. "_You just sat down, didn't you_?"

Rory raised an eyebrow. "Yes..." she said cautiously.

"_Which couch did you sit on_?"

"I sat on one of grandma's chairs," she lied.

"_Oh no you didn't. That was the distinct squishing sound of a couch_."

"Why does it matter?"

"_O-ho, it matters my darling_."

Rory crossed her arms, and heard shuffling in the background. "Luke's right there, isn't he?"

"_So what if he is_?" Lorelai asked in defense.

"Mother, this is not a contest!"

"_Which couch did you sit on_!" she demanded playfully.

Rory sat up. "I sat on Luke's couch," she said smugly.

Lorelai must have made a mock-horrified face suitable enough to give the answer away to her husband, because Luke's laugh was promptly heard in the background. "You have betrayed me!"

"That's what you get for being annoying about the whole thing," she retorted.

"I was not being annoying; I was merely curious."

"Curious enough to be annoying."

Lorelai huffed. "_After all I've done for you_."

Rory grinned. "See you this weekend, Mom."

Her mother's voice cheered immediately. "_I'd better_."

"Bye, mom; love you."

"_I love you, too_."

Rory stood, pushed her phone back into her pocket and went to the barely-stocked kitchen in search of coffee to brew. She had just gotten the pot started when the phone rang again.

"_Hey_."

She smiled and leaned back on the counter at the greeting. "Jess, hey."

"_So I hear you've got your own place now_."

"I believe that's what I told you myself last time I called, yes."

"_Moved in yet_?"

"Two days ago. The place is okay; I like it."

"_But knowing you, you wish you had more bookshelves_."

Rory smirked and stole a glance at the stack of boxes in the corner of the living room that was comprised of nothing but books. Beside them was the one stretch of built-in shelves the living room had, and they were already full to bursting."That about covers it."

"_As suspected_."

"Hey, when will you be in Connecticut again?" she asked next. A decently healthy phone friendship had worked out well for the past couple of months when it came to Jess, but now that she had her own apartment she suddenly wanted someone else to show it to—someone other than Mom or Luke or Lane or her grandparents.

That was what she told herself, anyway. This time the excuse was true, but she had asked him the same question the last several times they'd talked.

Having Jess around wouldn't be so bad, though. That was all it was, wasn't it? With only e-mail and the phone to maintain the relationship it had somehow been easier to re-discover why she had liked simply being friends with him at the beginning.

Well...with Dean around and Jess too eager back then to antagonize, it had never been simple...but she'd wished it could be.

Now it seemed it was, and Rory was pleased to have it that way.

"_I don't know; I go where the business is, when I leave Philadelphia at all_."

She sighed. "You'd think that with the way you guys work together over there and the whole not-exactly-having-a-boss thing, it'd be easier to get away."

"_Yeah, you'd think; but we actually stay pretty busy_."

"Publishing can be a rigorous business, I suppose."

"_You'd better believe it_."

Jess took his leave after a few more minutes of conversation in which he had her describe the new apartment and what she thought of it. He still couldn't tell her when he would be able to visit. Rory hung up not quite unhappy, but wondering why she wanted so badly to see him in the first place.

* * *

It felt good to be driving her own car on a regular basis again, especially when it could carry her between Hartford and Stars Hollow whenever she wanted. Rory knew things would eventually end up like they had been when she was at Yale—going home less often, communicating with her mother more through e-mail and phone calls—but for now she had a feeling that she would be coming home most weekends for a while.

A case of separation anxiety two years in the making was still at least a little in play, after all.

Rory stopped at Luke's on the way into town, knowing she might find her mother there.

Instead, she found Dean.

She didn't see him until after she'd make a quick sweep in search of Lorelai, and when she didn't find her Rory turned for the counter to find Luke and inquire as to her mother's whereabouts. That was where she found him, standing a couple feet back from the cash register, looking at as if he were waiting for something and trying not to look uncomfortable at the same time.

She hadn't thought of anything to say before Luke silently held a take-out cup and bagged breakfast order over the counter, and Dean took, uttered a quiet thanks and turned for the door.

"Rory."

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she convinced herself that it was only out of surprise. "Hey! Dean..." She cleared her throat. "So I guess summer started for you?"

"Yeah, I got off Thursday."

"I see."

Dean shifted on his feet. "I need to get going; Clara's waiting for me at home. It's my first weekend back and I told her I'd take her to a movie."

Rory nodded. "Good. That sounds fun. I mean, you know, have fun."

He smiled a little. "Thanks. See you."

"See you..."

With that he went around her and retreated, but before she was sure why she'd followed him out and let the door close behind her, leaving them both out on the sidewalk. "Hey."

Dean stopped and turned curiously. "Yeah?"

"I just...didn't expect to find you in there, that's all," she said, because she didn't know what else to say.

He paused a moment, and then shrugged. "I didn't expect to find me in there either, really—but everyone knows it's the best coffee in town, and I figured it'd been long enough I should at least see if he'd serve me anything."

"Ah...I think I understand."

"He still doesn't like me."

"Probably not, but I think being with my mother has mellowed him a bit."

"An advantageous situation for many, if anything," he smiled.

"I concur."

Dean looked at her for a moment, not unlike he had before he'd left the wedding two months ago. It was enough to make her self-conscious. "See you later, Rory."

"Tell Clara I said hi."

"I will."

Then he was gone again, and Rory was left feeling just as utterly caught-off-guard as last time. After a moment or so she made it back into the diner and took a seat at the counter, twisting to watch him go for a few seconds more before he was out of sight.

"You all right?"

Rory blinked and turned. "What?" She found Luke looking at her, and couldn't decide if that expression was concerned or just confused and she settled on both.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Why?" He nodded toward the door that Dean had left through, and she sighed. "I'm fine," she repeated. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You weren't mean before I came in, were you?"

"To whom?"

"I'm not in the mood for games, Luke."

He shrugged. "No game; it my chosen thought process to avoid any type of scene."

It took her a moment to figure that one out. "You pretended it was just any other customer."

"Any other customer I'd never seen in my life, yes. It seems to have worked; I'm still behind the counter," he answered, pouring her a cup of coffee.

Rory picked it up but didn't start in on it yet. "Look, I don't know a lot more than you do, but I know you could give him a break. He's gone back to college, and from what I can tell he's doing all right for himself..."

He picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counter. "That doesn't change anything."

She frowned and set the coffee down again, staring down at her lap for a moment. "It wasn't all his fault, you know."

That had always been the problem with this town, hadn't it? There were many good things, but no place could be without it's bad. The people of Stars Hollow had always been too close-minded to ever think anything but good of her, and others had always taken the brunt of everything thanks to that—Dean after their first breakup, with Jess and the car, after everything else with Dean...

Luke stopped wiping. "I know," he said, to her surprise.

Rory looked up, and he continued.

"I also remember that you told us he showed up at the wedding. If anything maybe I'm a little ticked off that he didn't really show his face _there_. But he came, and yeah, I've heard what he's been doing the past few years, and put all if it together and I guess that's why I was, you know, not-mean." He shrugged. "Beyond that, maybe you're right, but that's all I've got right now. You know me."

She studied him for a moment, and nodded finally. "Okay. Thanks, Luke."

Because even if things were always weird—even if she and Dean could never be anything more than acquaintances again—she knew, at least, that she wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to be all right, being here this summer, and she didn't want him to have to feel out of place or rejected anymore, as far as she could help it. Not here, not in his own home town.

Especially when it probably hadn't felt like home to him for a long, long time.

* * *

Tonight was the night. She was going to bring it up.

After all, she felt good. Lorelai was sad to see Rory leave, but she was ecstatic to have her only as far away as Hartford, and tonight she was home anyway, downstairs asleep in her room, here for the weekend even though it was only her first one living away from home in two months. Either way, Lorelai was glad to see her settled and stable.

With that out of the way, she could focus on other things.

Like bringing up _the subject_.

She wasn't sure when it had earned it's own air quotes, but anyway....Lorelai was determined to do it tonight. Then Luke came home, and jumped immediately into the story of what had happened at the diner that day.

"Dean again, huh?"

Luke pulled a t-shirt on over his pajama pants as he finished changing. "Dean," he confirmed.

"Why is it that Rory's seen him twice now and you've seen him, but I haven't seen him at all? It still upsets me that he didn't at least say hi at the wedding before he ran off—that we had to hear he was there from Rory."

"That was probably my fault," Luke shrugged.

"How is it your fault? You didn't even see him."

"Exactly. It was probably me he wanted to avoid."

Lorelei held up a finger. "But he didn't avoid you today. In fact, he intentionally put himself within arm's reach of you."

"Today isn't two months ago. So he gained some backbone in that time; _I_ don't know." He crossed to the bed and climbed in beside her, crossing his arms behind his head.

"You do know he's going to be around all summer, yes?"

Luke let out a breath. "So I heard. Or that was the plan when he mentioned it to Rory two months ago, anyway. Personally I wouldn't be upset if his plans changed."

"Luke, Luke, Luke," she chastised.

"What?" He turned on his side to face her. "When you were complaining you hadn't seen him you sound like you wanted to. Why do you _want_ to?"

"Because I haven't seen him in a while. Besides, he _did_ go back to college, after all, and Rory said he implied he was doing all right there. He's not all bad. He _was_ my daughter's at-the-time-perfect first boyfriend, and I liked him then. That perfectness didn't come from nowhere; I'm sure a good bit of it's still in there somewhere, and I think the going-back-to-school bit at least begins to prove it."

Luke looked at her for a moment. "Maybe." Then he settled himself down in his pillows.

Lorelai chewed her lip her lip for a moment, finally remembering what she'd been intending to do. "Luke?"

His eyes were closed. "Hmm?" he muttered.

After another moment she reached to flick the lamp off. "Never mind."

Not the right time.

Again.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed much too quickly and Rory was back in Hartford, and Monday at work came and went. She liked the job and the people seemed like the kind she could get used to and like besides, and she liked her desk and even though she'd just started there the assignments weren't too terribly boring. Life was generally good.

But she still hated Mondays. It was just a human thing.

Rory had her feet up on the couch from home, sipping a cup of coffee with her nose in a book when the buzzer went off. She sighed and set the book and the coffee on the coffee table—which Lane and Zach had been able to give her because Mrs. Kim had given them a new one for Christmas.

"Who is it?" she asked at the intercom.

"_It's me_," the voice answered, as if it had been the most obvious question in the world.

Rory depressed the button again, not quite sure she'd heard right. "Jess?"

"_Is there anyone else you know with my oh-so-distinct annoyed tone_?"

"What are you doing here!"

"_Hey, you're the one that wanted me to come_."

"I'll be right down."

Her only explanation was that she didn't want to wait for him to make his way up to the third floor. It was a nicer building than the one in which she'd lived with Paris and Doyle during college, but there were still no elevators and she could run down a lot faster than he could get up.

Jess was waiting outside the front door, leaning on the iron railing that lead up the concrete steps and already smirking in amusement when she maid it out the door, purse in hand.

"I'd have come up, you know."

Rory looked back up the the windows she knew were hers, a little uncertain why she was down here herself. "I know. I want to show you the apartment, too."

"And yet you brought your purse."

She held it out to look at it. "Yes, I did."

Jess pushed off the railing and shrugged. "I guess that means we should go do something first."

"You'll find no argument here."

He smiled and started down the few steps, and Rory followed. "So what are you doing here?"

"Last time I just came for the wedding; this time my promotion route has actually brought me here on business."

"For the second book?"

"That's the one. Though I might not have to worry about the independent bookstores much longer; a couple of those smaller chain stores have already taken it, and I've got a bigger publisher that finally agreed to look at it."

Rory's eyebrows went up. "Wow, really? What happens if the publisher likes it?"

"They'll re-print it, and it'll end up in the major book stores."

"Like _major _major bookstores? Like Border's? Barnes and Noble?"

"Exactly like those. It would also mean better prospects for any future endeavors."

"Oh my god that would be amazing!"

Jess glanced at her as they walked the sidewalk. "Have you even read it yet?"

"Of course I've read it! It was really good."

"Aw, it could have been better..."

"Anything written could have been better, but I'm serious. I liked it."

He smirked. "You're just saying that.

She crossed her arms. "Am not. I want a sequel."

"Okay, I _know_ it wasn't that good."

"I _demand _a sequel," Rory reiterated.

Jess just laughed. "You're cranky; I think you need coffee."

She nodded once. "You _do_ owe me a cup. You pulled me away before I could drink mine. Now the whole pot will be cold by the time I get back."

"You assume you'll be out that long?" Rory shot him a look. "I'm kidding! I have all afternoon, I promise."

"Good," she smiled.

* * *

What was left of the afternoon was too short, and after coffee, going back for Rory's car and taking in a movie, too much junk food while there (no dinner), and a bookstore, it was already past ten. She had work in the morning, and Jess knew it.

"I will not be responsible for getting you fired your second week there," he insisted, following her up to her apartment.

"I know, I know. I just want you to see the place before you go. How much longer will you be around, anyway?"

"A few more days—maybe as much as a couple of weeks. We'll see. I'll be busy most of the time, but I'll make sure to drop by again before I head back to Philly."

Rory dug in her purse as she stopped in front of her door. "I guess I can live with that." The key found, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking the lights on before opening her arms wide as she walked in and turned to watch Jess as he followed her inside. "Welcome to my new habitat."

He looked around for a moment. "Not bad. Wow, I recognize most of this furniture, though..."

"Yes, that does seem to be the case, doesn't it? I plead first-time lone apartment inhabitor. I had no money to spare. No, it's not a lot, but it's mine. I'm pretty excited, actually. I've never actually lived by myself before—well, not a place I had to pay for myself, anyway."

That slipped out before she remembered who she was talking to, and winced when Jess gave her a strange look.

"What?"

She looked away and set her purse on the kitchen counter. "Never mind."

There was silence for a moment. "That had something to do with Rich Boy, didn't it?"

Rory crossed her arms uncomfortably and faced him again. "Yeah...Logan, uhm, had to go to London to work for his father after he graduated, and...let me stay in the apartment."

"Because you'd been living with him."

"Right."

"And this was after you came to Philadelphia?"

"Yes," she admitted.

Jess crossed the room, came to her, but instead of seeming hurt or angry or anything else, he looked her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I was right about the him-being-a-dick part," he said gently.

Rory let out a breath in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I haven't heard that story yet, but it's obvious that he hurt you, whenever he left—whatever happened. Maybe I hated the guy, but I'm sorry you had to go through whatever you went through."

She swallowed. "It's okay...it was a long time ago. But...thanks." Jess nodded, but he was still looking at her, and she was still looking at him.

Then their lips were meeting, and Rory thought she wanted it. Jess's arms went around her waist, and her hands got as far as his shoulders.

But she didn't want it.

Rory broke it off, pulling back a little but not enough to escape his arms. "I-I'm sorry..."

Jess looked down at her. "It's okay." She shook her head and planted her hands in his chest. She didn't have to push for him to understand, and slowly he let go. "What is it?"

"It's not...It's not okay. It's not...right." She didn't have a better explanation. "I'm _so_ sorry; I had to let it happen, or I wouldn't have known..."

She hadn't realized it until that moment, but it was the truth. She'd wanted to see Jess because part of her had wondered if there could be anything else there again. He had a relatively stable job, life, income now, and now so did she. It had seemed like the right time to find out.

But just because it was the right time didn't mean _he_ was right.

And he wasn't. Not that way. When they'd kissed, there had been nothing there. Not for her. It had been nice, and nothing more.

Jess stepped back a little more and crossed his arms. "It's fine," he said tightly.

"No it's not."

"You said that," he quipped.

"No, I mean...doing that you..."

"You didn't do anything; _I_ kissed _you_."

"I think both of us were involved."

He shrugged, still not looking at her. "Whatever."

Rory swallowed hard. "Jess...you're a good friend. I still wouldn't want to lose you. You I love you that way, don't you?"

"Fine. I know. You're right." He took a step backwards. "I should go."

"Okay...."

"The apartment look nice...get those few more bookshelves and it'll be all you."

"Thanks."

Jess nodded, finally glanced at her once, and headed for the door.

"Hey, you're still stopping by before you head back to Philadelphia, right?" she asked suddenly.

He had already opened the door. "I'll try; if I have time." Then he was gone, too, and she wondered why Dean had flashed through her mind.

Rory curled up where she'd been before Jess showed up that afternoon, staring forlornly at the cup of cold coffee before glancing up at the other couch where she'd spent so many hours with him when they'd dated.

She didn't want it back, but remembering still hurt a little, every now and then—just like with Dean and Logan. Mostly with Logan, but maybe that was only because he had been the most recent. Either way, she didn't want to lose the friend she had in Jess now. Why was it never simple?

Rory left the coffee where it was, picked up the book, and retreated to her bedroom to lose herself in the pages.


	6. Chapter 6

Well school has been crazy, and I'm STILL in the middle of two or three projects, but finally I managed to finish this! (Pumps fist) I hope ya'll enjoy it; I made it a bit longer to apologize, and I hope the content works toward that as well...(Evil laugh) Anyway, enjoy, and I can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much to all of you reviewers!

Chapter 6

Under normal circumstances Rory wouldn't have gone back to Stars Hollow until the next weekend, but after the confusion with Jess the night before she felt the urge for Luke's coffee and her mother's company. Thus, with the semi-flexibility a newspaper job afforded, she left work earlier than usual and drove the twenty-some miles miles home. Lorelai was still at the inn, but promised to meet her at Luke's as soon as she could get away.

That was how Rory found herself at a table at the diner, nursing a warm mug of her life's blood and absently flipping through the pages of a book when Dean Forester walked in.

Absently, because even as noticeable as he certainly was now, nothing would have gained her attention if she had really been focused on the reading she had been attempting to do—as Dean himself had noticed even before introducing himself, all those years ago.

She told herself that that bittersweet memory was the only thing that caused the pang in her chest when she glanced up and spotted him.

This time he saw her at about the same time, and after a momentary hesitation he bypassed the counter and slowly approached her. "Hey."

Rory closed the book on a finger and blinked up at him. "Back so soon?"

"I've _been_ back, actually...for takeout in the mornings, anyway." He shrugged. "This is the first afternoon trial."

"Ah, I see—branching out."

"Sure."

"You have much courage."

Dean smirked a bit. "Maybe." But she couldn't miss the melancholy even in _that_ answer, and Rory was reminded of her resolution.

She was going to make things easier here for him if it was the last thing she did.

Besides that it was a welcome distraction.

With no other course of action apparent, Rory motioned to the empty chairs at her table. "Well hey; while you're being brave, why not eat here? I've got room."

The smirk was gone in an instant, but he was quick to cover. "Uhm, I can't. I'm supposed to be picking up dinner for everyone at the house, actually..."

"Oh...well, you have to wait for it all get ready. You could wait here."

"Rory, I—" He cut off and let out a breath. "Sure," he relented. She was still looking at him a moment later, and he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the counter. "I have to order before I can wait for it."

"Right," Rory started. God, she was too old to stare like a teenager. What was wrong with her? Then again, there was plenty to look at. He'd certainly found enough time work out in the past few years, around the busy college/work schedule...She stopped there. "Because it would be hard to wait for an order that didn't exist. I mean I guess you could, but it would never get there—seeing as it wouldn't exist and all."

The smile came back, ever so slightly, and she was reasonably certain that she was much happier than she should have had reason to be to see it.

"You haven't changed much, have you?"

"Well, hopefully a little wiser along with the being a little older, but essentially all the same strangeness you remember is all here, yes."

He nodded in what seemed to be understanding. "Part of being a Gilmore."

"That's the idea."

Dean tracked back to the counter to order, and while Luke didn't give him any more attention than any other customer, he didn't give him less, either. It was still clear that both were uncomfortable with the other, but Dean wasn't near to cowering any longer, and Luke was at least speaking even if it was no more than he would say to anyone else.

All good signs, Rory thought, that things could be better.

They just had to get there.

Dean made it back to the table and took the chair across from her. There was one at the corner to her, but still he took the one across. The implication wasn't lost on her, even ifhe hadn't done it purpose.

But it didn't bother her. It really didn't. It made perfect sense, really. As of now, if they were ever anything at all again it would have to be friends, and she knew that. Anything else was completely out of the question after everything that had happened. That much was abundantly clear.

Anything else with _anyone_ was the farthest thing from her mind right now as it was.

"So how goes the job hunting? I didn't get a chance to ask about it last time I saw you..."

Rory dragged herself back to reality and answered the question. "Oh, it went well; I _have_ a job now, actually. I moved into an apartment in Hartford last week."

"You're working at the paper there?"

"The Hartford Courant, yeah. It's not so glorious just yet, but it's a good job—you know, pays the bills. I have bills now. Or I will, once the first ones come in."

"That part's always fun."

She smirked. "Oh, I can't wait."

With that neither of them had any new comeback, and Dean found their way back to the subject. "Well that's great, Rory."

"Yeah, it's a good place to start, anyway..."

She trailed off and Dean leaned forward some, more serious now. "You're disappointed."

"No, no of course not," she said automatically. "In today's economy I'm just happy to be employed, and it really is good to be so close to home." She motioned to the diner around her. "I mean look; I'm close enough to come here on a whim if I want. Who could want more than that?"

Dean gave her that knowing look—the one that had never failed to make her uncomfortable. "You could; you always have."

Rory had let her eyes slip away from his face, but she still heard the pain. Resisting the urge to grimace, she looked up again.

"That's not a bad thing," he amended.

"Well..." She shrugged. "I really am glad to be close to Mom."

"But you were hoping for something a little more prestigious?"

Maybe Dean had always been different, but he'd always known her. It seemed he still knew her, even now. Even after everything and all the time. And just like back in the town square back in March, the answer came out almost of its own accord, and she sighed. "Well four or five years ago I could see myself comfortably settled in at the New York Times by now."

"You'll get there."

How could he do that, too? How could he still have so much confidence in her? Even just as far as her professional life? How could he feel that way and offer such a compliment—_any_ compliment—so freely?

Rory swallowed. "Thanks." She cleared her throat and straightened. "What about you? School? How did finals go?"

Dean shrugged. "Some about as well as I'd expected; one or two a little better, actually. It all evened out, I guess."

"So you've got one more year?"

"Just one more semester, actually. I passed a couple of the classes I started right after high school before I...you know, dropped out, and I've crammed in an extra here and there when I could fit them in around work, so..."

"So you're graduating in the winter."

"I guess I am," he nodded.

"Wow, that's great too." Then she remembered the part she hadn't wanted to, and couldn't stop the question that came out next. "So uhm, how's...the girlfriend?"

Something dark crossed his features, but he didn't quite make it to a wince. "Not my girlfriend," he answered shortly.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Dean shrugged. "It's fine; it didn't quite make it there, really. It just...didn't work out."'

And suddenly Rory felt relieved beyond reason and yet angry enough to rip heads off. She quickly figured out that the anger was directed at whoever this girl was, but she didn't know why the anger was so strong and she couldn't figure the other emotion out at all.

She was saved from having to think of something else to say when Luke set three takeout bags on the counter and called across the room.

"Hey, you with the hair—order's up."

Dean managed to smirk at that without turning around. "Well it's a step up from gruff silence."

"This much is true, though he could have left out the veiled insult."

"Ah, let him have his creativity." He stood and offered her a small smile. "I'll see you around, I guess." Rory raised a hand in farewell, because she couldn't think of anything decent to say in return, and Dean took his order and left.

After sitting for a moment Rory made her way to the counter and leaned there for a moment.

"You don't have to say it," Luke grumbled.

"What, the 'what happened to being nicer' part?"

"I'm working on it, but that guy just bugs me—always has—and you knew it from day one."

She let out a breath. "Well I guess I appreciate the effort, whatever it may be."

"Yeah, whatever."

Rory couldn't help but shake her head at him, Luke that he was. She couldn't be angry at him. He was trying, but he was Luke. There was more than enough evidence in the past that things took a while with him.

She went back to her table, and it was only a few minutes more before Lorelai blew in, stopping by the counter to collect a kiss from her husband before she dropped into the chair at the corner from her daughter.

"Bad day?" Rory asked.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Not bad, just...Michel."

"Ah. Of course."

Her mother crossed her arms on the table. "So. What's going on? Any particular reason for you to be in on a weekday?"

Rory sat back in her chair and picked up her coffee. "No, not really," she lied.

Lorelai looked at her for a moment. She didn't quite seem to believe it, but she didn't press. "Okay...anything else?"

"You just missed Dean."

"_Again_? God, we have got to get that guy on a schedule or something."

* * *

Rory pulled herself away from the house that night with just enough time left to drop in on Lane before heading back to Hartford. It was her friend's husband who answered the door, immediately making a quiet signal as he motioned her inside.

"Lane's getting' the boys put to sleep. She'll be out a minute—if that's why you came. Actually she'll be out in a minute even if you _didn't _come to see her, but I don't know why else you'd be here."

"Thanks, Zach," Rory answered in amusement.

"Yeah. Well, you know, make yourself at home..."

Rory crossed to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen and perched on a stool. "Thanks."

"It's all good. What's up, anyway? I thought you were in Hartford now."

"Oh, I am. I'm just passing through and thought I could use a few minutes of friend time."

Zach shrugged just as the bedroom door opened and Lane emerged. "Rory!" she stage whispered. She quickly crossed the room to hug her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, can't I drop by?"

"Of you can." Lane looked at her for a moment, seemed to gather something, and spoke to her husband without turning. "Zach, scat."

"You got it, babe. Later, Rory."

"Bye, Zach." With that he retreated to the bedroom, leaving the friends alone.

Lane took the other stool and crossed her arms on the counter. "What's up? You look like you could use a good talk."

Rory shrugged. "I don't know; it's could be nothing..."

"I guess you heard—"

"That Dean is back in town? Yes, I certainly did. We had forewarning about that one, remember? It's just for the summer anyway, I don't even live here anymore—"

"It's bothering you."

Rory let out a breath. "I wouldn't say it's _bothering_ me. I mean, he's been nice—"

Lane quickly interrupted. "You've already seen him?"

"Twice, actually," she nodded. "Saturday morning and just this afternoon."

"Wow...so nice, huh?"

"Yes. Nice. Nice, but...distant." She shook her head. "That's the problem, really. I can't figure him out." She let her head drop. "I can't figure Jess out, either."

Lane's hand rested on her arm. "What's going on with Jess? I thought you two were friends now. Granted, I never liked that idea, but still..."

Rory told her what had happened the night before with Jess—what she hadn't been able to tell her mother, partly in fear that Lorelai would set off immediately to beat the stuffing out of said young man that she had never liked in the first place. When she finished Lane was staring at her.

"Wow, that's—"

"Crazy?"

"I was just gonna go with 'rather interesting' but okay; crazy works too. Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she grumbled, wishing she had cause to use a different sentence. "I haven't heard from him, but it's only been a day. It'll probably be fine; I should probably just be patient, but it's...hard. I've loved being able to call him a friend, and I don't want to lose it."

Lane nodded sympathetically. "I guess I can understand that. Just try not to worry about it. Your probably right; it'll work itself out."

Rory let out a breath. "Yeah. Sorry. I just...needed to tell someone. I needed Luke's coffee, and I needed to see my mom, and I needed to talk to someone about it."

"You didn't tell Lorelai?"

"I will once I know how this is going to go, but I didn't want her to have to worry about it." She glanced at her watch and grimaced. "I should go though. I have work in the morning."

Lane slid off of her stool. "I kind of figured." She smiled though. "But you know you're welcome any time. It was good to see you."

"Yes, it's been so long since last week."

Her friend chuckled and hugged her as she stood herself. "Come back soon."

"Count on it. Thanks."

The drive back to her apartment seemed much shorter than the drive to Stars Hollow had been just a few hours before. The worry still sat in the back of her mind, but much of the tension was gone. Seeing her mother or Lane thankfully often had that effect on her.

Jess would call soon. He had to.

* * *

Jess didn't call. He wouldn't even pick up his phone. Rory knew he was busy much of the time—in meetings, doing business, whatever else he really did. That was why he'd said to begin with that he wouldn't be able to stop by again until he was ready to head back to Philadelphia. But certainly her luck wasn't horrible enough to catch him in the middle of something _every _time?

Rory didn't know what to think.

She didn't _want_ to think about it. She wished he would answer, or call. She wanted this to be over. It was harder to think with it hanging over her head. In the past she would have ignored it, or compartmentalized it, and she was doing that—to some extent. But it wasn't so easy now. Maybe it was the fact that she was getting older and realizing that she didn't really have that many close friends her own age, or maybe it was something else entirely, but it bothered her.

That was why Rory didn't go home when she left the office Friday—not to her apartment, _or_ to Stars Hollow. Instead she retreated to the coffee shop she had found nearby. She needed to focus, and at her apartment or back in her hometown there would be too many excuses to find a different distraction that working on the piece she needed to finish.

The coffee shop was one of those newer, modern places, with polished surfaces and wi-fi internet, a few racks of magazine and b-rated paperbacks, and usually filled tables. It was quiet enough to work in, and yet had just enough noise that working was all one could focus on if that was what one was there to do. There was no room for extraneous thought. The coffee was decent, too, and there were doughnuts and cinnamon rolls and many other things with too much sugar.

In short, it was perfect.

Well, it was perfect up until she had _finall_y finished the story and gathered her things—perfect until she emerged from the back wing of shop, rounded the corner in plans of heading straight for door, and instead smacked into someone going the opposite direction.

Yes, maybe she was tired and she had been in a hurry and she hadn't been watching and maybe she was a little too wrapped up in her own thoughts to worry very much about the rest of humanity right now, but did she really deserve to have a full cup of steaming coffee erupt all over the front of her clothes.

Rory shouted and jumped back, expletives streaming through her mind but a string of apologies issuing from her lips instead, out of habit.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" came the reply. "I wasn't watching."

"I wasn't either."

"Let me he—"

She was still staring down at her ruined outfit, and caught the abrupt stop but didn't take the time to wonder at it. She was holding her computer bag and purse away from her body with one hand and her shirt away from her chest with the other when she finally had the chance to look up. "Ow ow ow ow—whoa."

"Rory?"

"What the hell are you doing here!" It was the first thing that came to mind, and Logan stared at her wide-eyed for a moment.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded in return.

"I _live_ here, thank you very much. I work at the paper. Last time I checked you were in California—not that I would have expected to hear about it if you'd moved."

"I was born and _raised _here. I'm visiting my parents."

"They finally forced you into it, huh?"

"I agreed on the condition that I didn't stay at the house, and then only after there was some kind of veiled threat involved."

She snorted. "Meet Mitchum Huntzberger."

Logan huffed and just looked at her for another moment, and she stared right back. Some around them had taken notice of the collision, but any fellow patrons who had kept watching after that were now all focused once more on their own coffee or newspapers or books. They were virtually alone, there by the trashcans of all places, and Rory was fully aware of the ridiculousness of her situation.

It was Logan. In a coffee shop she'd only been to a few times in her life. With her nearly soaked now in coffee. When they hadn't seen or spoken to each other since the day she'd graduated from Yale.

What was her world coming to?

Logan cleared his throat. "So..."

Several answers to the open-ended statement flashed through her mind, and Rory swallowed once as she chose the evasive. "So it's been...interesting, running into you, but apparently I should be going. I need to change."

His mouth pressed into a line as he seemed to realize that she was going to go all-business with this.

Well, she had to. She didn't have a choice. It hurt just to see him standing there in front of her. She'd thought she was over it, and it many ways she was, but this hurt. It hurt already and she wanted it to be over. She wanted to pretend it had never happened. It was too surreal. It couldn't have happened.

The sooner she could get away the sooner she could tell herself that.

"Look...at least let me pay for the clothes..."

"I don't make a world of money, but I think I can suffer the loss of one outfit, thanks," she answered tightly. She started to brush past him, but he stopped her. He caught her arm. He did it gently, and could have escaped and kept going with no resistance at all, but she stopped anyway.

"Wait."

"_What_, Logan? What do you want?" she asked, spinning back to him quickly.

"Please," he said. "Just let me."

"Let you what?"

"Pay for the clothes," he repeated.

Rory sighed and stared at the wall. "If I let you pay for the clothes will you leave me alone?" She risked a glance at him, and caught the hurt in his eyes.

"Yes," he relented.

"Fine."

Logan nodded in thanks and dropped his empty cup into one of the the trash cans before reaching into his jacket pocket. He came up empty and tried his pockets, patting himself down until he finally stopped and muttered an expletive.

"What?"

"I only left the hotel for decent coffee; I didn't bring my checkbook."

Good. Then she could get out of here. "It's fine. I should really go anyway—"

"Rory, wait. Please. Just let me get it."

Why did it matter to him? He was the one who had left. If it hadn't happened that way maybe she would have thought the plea to be an excuse to be able to see her, just for a few more minutes.

But as it was, she assumed he wanted this to end just as quickly as she did.

So why wasn't he letting it end?

"Logan, come on; it doesn't matter..."

"Yes it does," he said quickly, and then stopped, as if he hadn't meant for that to come out. He avoided her gaze. "The hotel is just at the corner."

"And what am I supposed to do, wait here covered in coffee and looking like an idiot until you get back?"she retorted.

His mouth opened and closed once or twice before he answered. "Fine, then come with me."

"That's a bad idea."

"Well do you have a better one?"

"I could...wait in my car," she supplied.

"Where _is_ your car?"

"It's parked at the newspaper office."

"Which is down the street in the opposite direction. You save more time if you follow me. You don't even have to come in the room; wait in the hall for all I care."

_For all I care. _That hurt, too, but he was right. This would be over sooner if she followed him.

Rory looked at him, arms crossed, for what seemed like an eternity, until an employee with a mop came up behind her and requested that they move the conversation elsewhere so she could clean up the mess. They both apologized and ended up out on the sidewalk.

"Well?" Logan asked.

Rory sighed again—a long, heavy sigh as her shoulders drooped in surrender. She'd just finished a story and she was tired and stressed and she just wanted to get this over with and get back to her apartment and curl up in bed, maybe call her mother. "All right, I'll follow you. I'll wait in the hall and you can get your checkbook. Then I have to go."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Fair enough."

The hotel was nice, but that didn't surprise her, and Logan quickly ushered her past any prying eyes in the lobby and to the stairs instead of the elevators.

"I'm only on the second floor, and I figured you didn't want to be in a crowded elevator in those clothes..." he explained.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly.

Rory had fully planned to wait in the hallway, but when he didn't come right back out she stepped inside, no farther than just past the doorway. He must have heard her, or noticed the movement, because he spoke up as he searched the nightstand. "It's not where I thought it was."

She set her purse and computer bag down at her feet and stood uncomfortably by the wall in the entryway of the room, waiting. What was she doing here? And if she had to be here, why was she running away? Why wasn't she saying anything? She imagined this over and over, what she would say or scream or shout if she ever saw Logan again, and here he was and she was tongue-tied.

Not that it was anything new for her. She'd let Dean walk away more than once, and said nothing. She'd made no effort to contact Jess any of the many times he had disappeared. She had done the same when Logan left—nothing.

God, could she be any more pathetic?

"Why do you care?" she asked suddenly.

Logan paused in his search, but quickly went back to it as he spoke. "What?"

"Why do you care about smashing into me or paying for the clothes or _me,_ at all? You're the one that left. You have no reason to care, and I highly doubt you'd be doing this if I'd been any other person in that coffee shop."

His shoulders stiffened, but he kept looking, picking up one of his bags from a chair to shift through it. "You're right about that."

"Well? Then why do you care?"

"It doesn't matter."

She huffed, still looking for an answer. "It's not like you missed me," she interjected.

That was when he stopped. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you left. _You_ left."

"You're the one that didn't want to marry me," Logan answered, looking up now.

"I wasn't _ready_!"

"Rory, you were twenty-two and through with college. We'd been together for almost three years. The way I saw it, if you weren't ready then you were never going to _be _ready."

She scowled. "What if I thought differently."

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said dismissively, but the hurt was still there.

Rory found herself responding not to the hurt, but to his attempt to avoid the subject. "No, Logan. It does matter. You walked away before I had a chance to really explain myself."

"Explain yourself? Are you joking? You've _never_ been able to explain yourself. I would have been waiting for something that wasn't going to come. It was better to leave while I was still relatively intact," Logan shot back.

"Oh, like you were really falling apart. If you loved me that much you wouldn't have left at all," she answered heatedly.

This was it; the argument she'd wanted to be able to have and yet dreaded getting into for two years now. Three minutes ago she'd been determined not to get into _any_ real conversation with him. She'd been bent on a escape. What had happened to _that_?

Logan dropped the bag and crossed the room again, returning to the entryway as he returned her glare. "You weren't going to change your mind , Rory. It was _because_ I loved you that much that I had to get out of there before I _lost_ it, all right?"

Rory purposefully shoved the door closed behind her when she came back at that, aware that the volume was reaching a point where it might bother the other occupants of the floor. "No, it is _not_ all right. If you felt that way, then why the hell didn't you call? Why didn't you do _anything_?"

"That's a two-way street, Rory. You didn't so much as e-mail, and _I _had already made a promise. I _told_ you it was all or nothing."

"And that was stupid to begin with!" she sputtered.

Logan's expression faltered, and she saw the pain in his eyes again. "Yes it was," he said quietly.

Rory only stared, stupefied by the sudden break in temper. "Logan...?"

It wasn't like him. When he fought, he fought. When he wanted to make nice, he did it splendidly. He had never broken off a fight—not in the middle. The make-up came later. It always had.

The change in his eyes didn't really hit her until he turned away, making as if to go back to the bag he'd left on the floor, but this time she stopped him.

Logan turned, just as she had, quickly, and she didn't think he knew why he'd done it any more than she had known why she had. Then he stopped, just looking, and hurting, and Rory still hurt, too. But she didn't know what to say.

It was too much at once. Jess wouldn't call and she didn't know what to make of Dean and she'd run into Logan from nowhere and she was relatively certain she had minor burns on her chest, but now the coffee was cold and so was she and she was starting to shiver, but she wasn't so sure it was only because she cold, and Logan was looking at her with those eyes, and it was too much at once. The last two years had seemed so simple, just the job, no men, nothing to worry about but deadlines and making sure she had her plane tickets for home on vacations.

Now those years suddenly seemed at once much too complicated and like a dream that had never happened at all...and for just a moment it all disappeared.

A moment was enough.

Logan was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and she wanted it. She wasn't sure who started it, but she didn't protest when she found herself helping him peel off her coffee-soaked clothing.

She didn't protest outwardly.

What small part of her mind was still rational shouted at her, but Rory ignored it.

This was wrong, wasn't it? But she ignored the insistence. She let those damned two years disappear again. But she could still hear one voice voice in the back of her mind.

_You haven't changed much, have you?_


	7. Chapter 7

Wow. That was an even longer wait, wasn't it? Ugh I HATE school! And beiong sick. There was that, too. Freaking stomach flu. Ick. Anyway, here you go! Finally! For anyone who wants to kill me for anything from this point in, please just hang in there...I promise there's a point to everything. Okidoki then...enjoy! LOL and please do review so I know ya'll are still around. :P Thanks so much!

Chapter 7

When Rory woke up, she didn't know where she was. She saw the red digital numbers glaring at her from the generic nightstand, telling her that it was just after five thirty in the morning.

But five thirty in the morning _where_?

Then she realized that she was naked under the covers, and she could here the gentle in and out of someone breathing in sleep at her back.

Logan.

It came back to her, and she turned over slowly to find him, face buried in his pillow beside her.

Oh god.

_You haven't changed much, have you?_

Rory climbed quickly but quietly of the bed and gathered her clothes, dressing shakily. Maybe if she could get out of here without waking him she could pretend it had never happened. She could forget it. Logan didn't know where she lived, exactly. He hadn't even written the check yet. She wasn't even sure he'd actually found the checkbook.

But that didn't matter. She didn't need the money, though he would probably send it to her address in Stars Hollow anyway. What if he looked for her there?

Oh god, oh god, oh god. What was she doing here?

Her clothes were still stained from the coffee, but they were dry, if maybe a little stiff. She could get home, anyway. She almost made it, but she heard her name as she went to pick up her things.

"Rory? What are you doing?"

She spun on him, suddenly angry. "I'm leaving?"

Logan sat up, suddenly more awake. "What? Why?"

Rory picked up her computer bag and purse, not looking at him. "Because I won't be that girl! I'm not supposed to be that girl."

He frowned at her, climbing out of bed and pulling the sheet with him to hold around himself. "What girl?"

"The one who does this! The one who just...lets this happen—falls into bed with old boyfriends. God, I did it once, and—" She stopped there, breath and heart rate speeding up, horrified that she'd let that slip. Dean wasn't something that had ever come up with Logan, really. Jess, either. He didn't know much of anything about her relational past.

"What?"

"Nothing." She held her bags tightly over her shoulder and turned for the door.

"Rory, wait!"

The hand on her arm didn't work this time, and she shook it off. "No! I shouldn't even be here! This was stupid. I have to go." She pulled the door open and swept out before she change her mind or look back at him and see the hurt she knew would be there. She left him standing in the entryway of the hotel room, unable to follow her in his current state of undress. She ran, hoping he wouldn't pull anything on in time to follow her.

If he did, she didn't hear him calling after her.

* * *

The drive to Stars Hollow had never seemed longer, and yet it was short enough that she didn't remember she still looked a wreck in her stained clothes until she pulled up at the house. It was after six, and the jeep was gone. Luke's truck wasn't there either, but that wasn't surprising. He would be at the diner by now. Her mother's absence was more confusing, but her only conclusion was that Lorelai was at Luke or at work already.

It was inconvenient, seeing as all she wanted right now was her mother. But she couldn't go to find her immediately, if she was anywhere other people would see her.

Rory ran inside and found clothes to wear, and headed back for town. The diner was closest; hopefully Lorelai was still there eating breakfast. She didn't feel like walking all the way to the inn, and it would take almost as long to come back for her car e she was in town at the diner.

She wanted her mother, and she wanted her _now_.

But apparently she was being punished already. She burst into the diner to find it bustling with the 6 a.m. crowd, but no Lorelai Gilmore.

Luke came out from behind the counter as the crowd went back to eating after glancing at her. "Rory? What's going on? I didn't know you were coming home this weekend."

She staggered back a step, lightheaded. "I wasn't..." she answered weakly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, moving closer and putting out hands to steady her.

"Where's Mom?"

"She's at the inn. They had an early meeting today."

"But she should be here," Rory protested. "She shouldn't have a meeting _today_; she should be here. I _need_ her here..." she trailed, blinking rapidly.

"Rory?" Luke's voice went up in pitch. She knew it was only his reaction to upset women, she she hardly noticed at all. He seemed to realize she was on the verge of a breakdown, and immediately began to ease her toward the door to the stairs. "Come on..."

She followed him blindly, barely noticing where her feet went and nearly tripping on a chair in the process. Luke guided her by the shoulders, and the first sob broke free as he got her through the curtain and into the stairwell. Her legs didn't make it any farther than the second step.

"Whoa!" Luke came down with her, easing her to the wooden steps and wrapping his arms around her uncertainly. Rory sobbed into his shoulder, wishing she could stop the embarrassing display but powerless to do so.

"Rory, what is it?" he asked, quite obviously uncomfortable.

She couldn't tell him. She could barely breathe.

Luke sat with her for a minute or two, but then let go of her and stood. "W-wait. Just a minute." Maybe he had to warn Lane and Caesar that he might be a while. Rory hated to intrude, but she wasn't really thinking about that right now.

She wasn't sure how long it was until the curtain briefly opened again, and warm arms took her in once more. She couldn't look at him, but with with her eyes squeezed shut as she cried she let him hold her, hoping this would blow over soon and she could find her mother. She wondered how she was going to get Luke to let her leave without an explanation. She couldn't talk to _him_ about this....

But she was grateful he was there.

When the sobs faded to hiccups Rory let her eyes open—and realized that the legs she was looking at were much too long.

She sat up quickly, swiping at her face with her sleeve almost as an afterthought as she looked in shock at who was beside her now. "_Dean_?"

He winced. "Yeah..."

"W-what..."

"Luke had several new customers coming in and needed to get back to work...I was just coming in, too; I guess I was convenient."

"Because it certainly wasn't that he likes you," she said dryly.

"That too." Dean let his arms fall away, but he was looking at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

Rory barked out something between a laugh and another sob. "Not really." She swallowed. "You didn't have to...."

"I know," he said quickly. "It's okay."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure," he said honestly.

She let out a breath and offered a tentative thanks, to which he only shrugged. "You don't have to stay," Rory said then, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he was there in the first place.

Dean looked at her for a moment. "You don't need anything?"

She crossed her arms tightly over herself and shook her head.

"I don't guess you want to tell me what's going on?"

She grimaced and shook her head again, looking away. "I just...I did something brilliantly stupid."

He shifted uncomfortably on the steps, which was much too low for the length of his legs. "Well...I guess we all do those things."

Rory opened her mouth and shut it again. She'd been about to say _you have no idea_, but he did. They both did. "Why do you care?" she asked instead.

Dean blinked at her. "What?"

She shifted to the edge of the stair, away from him enough that she could get a good look at him. "Why do you care? You...you shouldn't have to care. After everything...you shouldn't have to care," she finished lamely, unable to word it better.

She wasn't even sure exactly what she was saying. But the feeling of amazement that Dean had ever even talked to her when he made it back to town was still there—compounded by the fact that he'd been nice to her. Yes, a little distant, which wasn't unexpected, but nice. She didn't know exactly where the feeling that he shouldn't was coming from. Something just told her so.

Yet here he was, and he seemed to care. After all the shit they'd both been through, he still cared.

Dean frowned a little, as if trying to decide the answer for himself, and for a moment or two he seemed to be in deep thought himself.

"Because I'm your friend," he said finally.

Rory swallowed. "Are you? We've seen each other all of three or four times in last, what, five years? And all of those were in the past three months, and all of them by chance alone. That doesn't exactly qualify as friendship material."

He shrugged. "Not yet. It could be a start, if you want." She stared at him uncertainly, and he continued. "Look, I'm home for the summer, and even though you're in Hartford it's obvious you come here often, and I figure if we're apparently going to be bumping into each other anyway...we might want to give it a try."

"_Another_ try," she corrected, with what small amount of humor she could muster.

"True," he admitted.

She would have been more cautious only a week ago, but now that she didn't know if Jess would ever call her back, and feeling certain that Logan would hate her forever, Rory realized that she could use a friend right now.

No complications. Complications were the last thing she needed.

But a friend in Dean she felt she could welcome. It had been long enough, hadn't it?

She forced a smile she didn't feel, but that didn't mean it was a lie. "Maybe you're right."

Dean smiled a little in return. "Friends then?" He seemed a little tentative about it himself, and she couldn't blame him for that.

But she wanted it.

"Sure."

* * *

When Luke called Lorelai dropped everything and drove back to the diner, leaving the others to watch the Dragonfly. When she hurried in Luke was hovering near the entrance to the stairs, and when she approached he nodded toward the curtain, telling her where Rory was.

"What's going on?" she whispered. "I wish I knew. She came in looking pretty damn freaked out about something, and I barely got her back there before she burst into tears. I wanted to help, but I'm just not good with that stuff, and then Dean came in..."

"Dean?"

"He went in there with her. I didn't know what else to do."

Lorelai patted his arm and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for trying. I'll see what I can do."

"I hope she's all right. I didn't really think about it being Dean; he was just kind of convenient..."

"Don't worry about it. Get back to work; your 6 a.m. crowd is thinning out, but you've still got plenty of people in here."

Luke let out a breath. "Yeah. Okay." He moved off, and Lorelai stepped into the stairwell, knocking on the wall on the inside to announce her presence.

Rory and Dean were both there, sitting on the second step, and they looked up at the sound.

"Mom!" Rory stood quickly and hugged her, and Lorelai held on tightly. "Luke called me. What's going on, honey?"

Her daughter swallowed. "Can we go home first?"

"Okay..." Keeping an arm around Rory, Lorelai looked down again at the young man that took up entirely too much room for the base of the small stairwell. "Dean. We meet again. Finally," she said in amusement.

He stood, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah...it's been too long."

"Heard you crashed my wedding."

"If you want to call it that."

"Of course I want to call it that; it's more fun that way."

Dean smirked. "Of course." Lorelai smiled briefly, and gently eased her daughter toward the curtain. "Take care," he added. Rory gave him an appreciative glance, causing her mother to wonder exactly what had gone on before she arrived.

"You too," Lorelai answered. Then she squeezed her daughter's shoulders and bundled her home.

* * *

Lorelai did everything Rory had expected of her. She drove them home, even though it was only a moment away, got her inside and put on a pot of coffee. She didn't say anything until Rory had a mug in her hands, and that was when she eased herself onto the couch beside her daughter and looked at her intently.

"So."

"So..." Rory trailed.

"I think this is the part where you tell me what happened back there."

She let out a breath. "Figured that."

Lorelai took a sip of her own coffee. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

And there was really no other way to do it than to jump right in. She stared into her mug and swallowed. "Well...Logan's in town, for starters."

"Did your grandmother finally decide to call you about that yourself? I'm sorry honey; I would have let you know as soon as she told me yesterday afternoon, but I couldn't reach you."

Rory snorted. "No, I don't guess you could."

She could just feel her mother frown in confusion at that. "Rory? What is it?"

"I uh...I ran into him."

"Oh...I'm sorry; it didn't go well, did it?"

"Oh, it went pretty well there for a while there."

Lorelai was silent, but Rory couldn't tell if it was because she understood or because she didn't. Finally she looked at her mother, and Lorelai looked back. Finally her eyebrows went up.

"Oh. _Oh_. Oh, Rory..."

"I never _meant_ for anything to happen. It was the _last_ thing on my mind, but he spilled coffee all over me and he didn't have his check book and we ended up in his hotel room, and we were arguing, and...I shouldn't have let it happen." She grimaced. "What am I supposed to do? I know him. I _know_ he'll look for me. He'll want to make it right, and he can't."

Lorelai look at her for a moment. "Are you sure about that?"

"_Yes_. I thought I was, and then last night I wasn't, but...I'm sure. We can't go back, mom. It's just...I think I would have married him before if it was meant to be. I loved him—I love him—but I can't spend the rest of my life with him. I couldn't explain it then and I can't now, but it's just not...right."

Her mother pulled her in with an arm around her shoulders. "You haven't found the one you don't want to hesitate about. That's okay. You've got time. I mean hey, look how long it took me."

Rory groaned. "Thanks for the encouragement.

"Hey, I'm not _that_ old."

"I know, I know..." She curled up against her mother. "I just feel like a horrible person. _Again_."

Lorelai held her close and rubbed her shoulders. "You are _not _a horrible person. You just made a mistake."

"Well when am I going to _stop_ making them," she grumbled. "At least the big ones..."

Her mother sighed. "I don't think there's _ever_ a point where we're not at risk of making those. But hey, no pity parties. You've got an advantage; you're a good kid. You'll be okay."

"You promise?" She didn't know why, but as much as her mother had always been at making her feel grown-up and included and equal, Lorelai had always been able to make her feel like a child again, too—small and safe and warm and loved. It wasn't such a bad thing right now.

Lorelai kissed her forehead. "I promise."

* * *

Rory insisted that her mother get back to work, and headed back to her apartment to curl up in bed and read. Lorelai had offered to stay home, watch movies with her at the house, and help her eat as much ice cream as they could stuff their faces with, but she hadn't wanted to keep her mother from the inn. She felt bad enough already.

Talking to her mother had helped, but right now she just wanted to...forget. Staying home in Stars Hollow and keeping Lorelai from work would have been out of the ordinary. It would have been fun, but it wouldn't have helped her forget. Staying in her apartment and reading was normal; that would help her forget.

Maybe if she pretended it had never happened it would all blow over. She wasn't naive enough to think it would all _disappear_...but maybe just forgetting for a while would be enough to keep her sane. So she went back to her apartment, wrote a few paragraphs of her next assignment, and picked up a book.

The forgetting was working, until she remembered.

Rory was in the middle of a paragraph when she dropped the book and snatched her phone from the nightstand. She all but jumped off of the bed, pacing until her mother picked up.

"_Hey. Rory_?_ What's up; how are you doing_?"

"Oh my god, Mom, we weren't even _safe_!"

There was silence for a moment. "_You and Logan_? _Last night_?"

"Yes! I was so upset I'd let it happen in the first place I wasn't even thinking about it before, but we weren't Oh god, we weren't..."

"_You're sure_? _You're not on a pill or anything_...?"

"There hasn't been reason to worry about anything for almost two years, Mom. There was no point in continuing to pay for them if I didn't need them!

"_Rory, sweetie, calm down. This doesn't have to mean anything. It happened to me and Luke three or four years ago, remember_? _After the party when the article on the inn came out_? _We were drunk, and I wasn't on anything, and we forgot about everything else, and nothing happened. It was fine. You'll be fine._"

"But what if I'm not? What if I'm not that lucky? _You_ weren't the first time. Thus my existence."

"_I don't know what to tell you, Rory. There's nothing either of us can do right now_."

"I know that!" She trudged into the main room and dropped onto the couch from her childhood. It wasn't comfortable, but it was familiar. She curled up in its corner and closed her eyes.

It took a moment before her mother said anything else. "_Do you want me to come over there_?" she asked gently.

Rory shook her head at first, and then stopped. One, it couldn't be seen over the phone, and two, her head hurt now. "No...it's okay. Thanks."

"_Are you sure_?"

"No, but...you're right; you can't do anything. I've got an article I can work on, I'll...just do that. Working is good."

"_For you, maybe_," Lorelai teased.

"It should not be underestimated as a calming mechanism."

"_And here I was all annoyed at needing to do it on a Saturday_."

"Yeah, what was up with that anyway?"

"_Business is good; it's just _busy_ at inn. They need me whenever I can be there, and Luke's still at the diner on Saturdays, so there's not much of a reason not to go into work if I can._.."

"My mother, the enterprising business owner."

"_You better believe it! Well, half business owner, but let's not spoil the fun_."

Rory smirked, coming close enough to a giggle to feel a little better. "Thanks, Mom."

"_For what_? _This isn't for you; tireless sarcasm is my job_."

"You know what I mean."

"_Yeah...I know. So you don't want me to come over_?"

"I'll be okay for now."

"_All right...Hang in there, kid. I love you._"

"Love you too, mom."

* * *

The week passed much too slowly, but working did help. Still, Jess still didn't call, and that didn't help. In his absence Rory found herself thinking of Dean. It had been so long since she'd let herself think about him at all that it was strange to find herself wanting to see him.

He wanted to be her friend...and a friend she could use right now.

But she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone, even though she knew she could probably reach him at his house. Maybe it was the fear of one of his parents picking up, or maybe it was something else, but she didn't call.

Though she wondered if Dean would have called _her_ if he'd known her number.

Rory left her apartment Friday afternoon with the intention of heading to Stars Hollow, but stopped as soon as she'd stepped out the front door of the building.

Jess was leaning against the iron railing, looking up toward her window.

He looked toward her when he heard the door shut, and his eyebrows went up. "Hey...I was about to buzz up, or...call you...or something. I just...didn't know if you'd let me in."

Rory swallowed and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Why wouldn't I let you in?"

He grimaced. "I was kind of an ass before I left last time."

"You had an excuse to be upset..."

Jess shook his head. "No I didn't. Not really. I shouldn't have even thought..." He trailed off and looked away for a moment. "Look, I'm sorry."

"Me too," she said quietly.

He gave a weak smile, and after a moment Rory hugged him. She held on for a long, long time, and it felt good to finally not have to worry about anything anymore. Not with Jess.

Eventually he gave her one more squeeze and let go, and she stepped back too. "I wish I had more time to make it up to you," he sighed. "But I've got a flight out in the morning."

Rory smiled, and she was relatively sure it was the first time in several days. "I could always use a good cup of coffee." That, and the only coffee shop within walking distance—the one she and Jess had been in two weeks ago—was nowhere near the one where she'd run into Logan. She could always use coffee, and now she could always use coffee from anywhere but there.

"Of you, that much is true. Apparently there is no such thing as too much coffee."

"Never."

Jess took her arm and led her down the steps to the sidewalk. "Then coffee it is."


	8. Chapter 8

Yes! I got another chapter up within a week! Unfortunately, next weekend I have an All-State honor choir thing...Very cool (I got in last year too and loved it, and this year my best friend is in it with me, even on the same voice part) but it's on halloween weekend, which is a bit of a bummer, and takes away time in which i could be writing. or doing my math homework. :P LOL. Oh well.

Anyway, here ya go! And like I said, anyone who wants to kill me from this point on...please keep it to yourself. :P I'm not fond of flames. But please, just trust me. I do have a game plan, I promise. There is a point. And rmember that I really do need to know what ya'll think! :) Thanks so much for all the reviiews so far! Constructive reviews are my favorite, but I love hearing from any of you any time in any way. So enjoy, and have a great rest of the weekend! Thanks!

Chapter 8

June 2009

Jess really didn't have a lot of time, but it was enough to patch things up. By the time he walked Rory back to her apartment they were just as comfortable as they'd been two weeks before, and she insisted on driving him to his hotel to get his things and bringing him to the airport to see him off.

But being there reminded her that she hadn't set foot in that airport since returning home in March...and that only brought thoughts of when she'd left on the campaign job in the first place, still reeling from the final breakup with Logan no matter how 'okay' Lorelai had thought she seemed.

Rory held it together until Jess was gone; she smiled, and she kissed him on the cheek and made him promise to call, and he smiled back and said goodbye and waved, and disappeared through the security gate. Then she got back to her car as quickly as she could, suddenly nauseated.

But only because of the memories. The nausea was only from the memories.

* * *

Luke wasn't pushy, and he seemed to know that even though he was married to Lorelai, he couldn't always be privy to everything in the girls' lives. Some things were private...and for now what had happened between Rory and Logan was one of them. Luke had never asked what was wrong with Rory, just if she was all right. He had asked very anxiously if she was all right. Lorelai had told him was that she would be.

She had to be. She was Rory. She would be okay.

But...

No. No thinking. It would be all right. Fate wouldn't dare bite the Gilmores in the ass two generations in a row...would it?

* * *

Rory didn't drive to Stars Hollow as she'd planned. She went back to her apartment, took Dramamine, and fell asleep, glad she hadn't previously promised her mother she would be home that weekend. When she woke, she worked until there just wasn't anything to write, and then she wrote a little more—pieces not necessarily assigned that she'd been meaning to take a stab at for weeks. Lorelai called, and Rory told her she was fine—just busy.

But Sunday morning, Lorelai Gilmore showed up on the front doorstep of her apartment building.

Rory's stomach clenched when the buzzer went off, and suddenly she was irrationally afraid that Logan had found her somehow. She didn't even know why the thought of seeing him scared her, exactly, but she barely made it from the kitchen bar to the buzzer without tripping over her own feet.

"H-hello?"

"_Are you gonna make me stand down here all day? Do I have a to rent a hot air balloon to get to the third floor_?"

"Mom?" Rory frowned at the intercom.

"_The one and only. Well, _your_ only mother, not _the _only mother."_

Rory buzzed her mom up, unlocked her own door and was at the counter huddled over her coffee again when Lorelai let herself into the apartment. "Hey kiddo..."

"Hey, Mom. What's up?"

Her mother took the stool next to her and looked at her with the same intent expression she'd used a week ago. "I came to ask _you_ that question."

"Mom, I live on my own now. You don't have to assume there's something wrong with me just because I don't come home every weekend."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." They just looked at each other for a moment. "Sweetie, we don't even know if there's anything to worry about at all."

Rory scowled. "Yeah, we _don't know_. That's the problem," she admitted finally. She was more than aware that they'd both known that already, and she wasn't planning on dwelling on it, but it had to be said. "And we _can't_ know until at least _next_ weekend, right? That's the drill, isn't it?"

Lorelai let out a breath. "Yeah..."

"Exactly. So I'm...fine. I'm just..._getting_ to next weekend," she mumbled, taking a gulp of her coffee. "And I mean, maybe I won't even have to wait until then. If I start in a couple of days like I'm supposed to, that'll be the end of it." Her mother was still looking at her, until finally she used a hand to pull Rory's head closer so she could kiss her daughter's forehead.

"Ah—Mom!"

"Don't 'Mom' me; and if you don't want to relocate to Stars Hollow, then I'm staying here today." With that she pulled several discs in clear covers from her overly large purse.

Rory raised an eyebrow. "You came prepared?"

Lorelai set those on the counter and pulled out a few more. "More than prepared."

"Well...I don't think there's such thing as too many good movies," she said longingly. Then she realized that they _were_ discs, not tapes. "Wait, you actually rented DVDs?"

Her mother shrugged. "Well, the player's been sitting there since your dad installed that flat screen, and the number of tapes in the video store that haven't been replaced shrinks by the day. Ah, whatever happened to the good old days?"

Rory grimaced. "That's what I'd love to know."

Lorelai winced in return. "Sorry. Bad choice of words. Okay, so...marathon? Please tell me you have ice cream."

Rory didn't have any illusions about her mother's attempts to cheer her up working for any longer than in the moment, but it was useless to resist. She gave in anyway and went to the freezer to pull out the two tubs that were already waiting. "What kind of child of yours would I be if I didn't?"

Her mother dropped from her stool to examine the offerings. "Hmm, well, it's the cheap stuff, but as you're just starting out that can be forgiven..."

* * *

Lorelai was pacing the entryway when her daughter pulled up in the driveway. Maybe she had spent all of Sunday in a reasonably successful attempt to keep Rory calm, but now it was Friday and all week she had been distracted herself. From the e-mails in fractured, text-speak sentences she'd been getting all week, she didn't think Rory had fared much better.

She opened the door just in time for Rory to all but bound inside, clutching a wadded plastic bag to her chest. Lorelai glanced at the drug store label and resisted the urge to gulp compulsively. "Still nothing?"

Her daughter grimaced. "No..."

"Why didn't you call me? I could have...you know...picked those up for you."

"I didn't think you would have wanted to do that here. You would have had to drive to Woodbridge or Hartford anyway, and I was _coming_ from Hartford, so...Well, okay, not that it wasn't a little bit of a drive for me too; I made sure to find a drug store _well _across town from any of Grandma and Grandpa's friends or anyone the Huntzbergers might know, though I'm not really sure why I added their contacts to my avoidance list too, because I certainly don't think Logan would have told them anything, but you know, better safe than sorry, and—"

Lorelai put a hand on her arm. "Wow, sweetie, you want some air with that explanation?"

She let out a breath. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"I know," she answered quietly.

"You're sure Luke's not coming home for a while?"

"I'm sure."

Rory's arms tightened where she'd crossed them over her chest, crushing the bag there. The wall blocked the stairs from view, but she glanced in their general direction. "Well..."

Lorelai glanced up with her. "Yeah."

She followed her daughter out to the stairs and up to the bathroom doorway, where they both stood in awkward silence for a moment. "So...you need to go, or are we gonna have to hang out for a while?"

"No...I need to go."

"Okay."

Rory wasn't a child. She was far from being a child. But Lorelai suddenly felt sixteen again, watching her own memories from the outside. Her chest was tight already, and she didn't know what to do. She'd been on the opposite side of this last time...and her own mother had certainly not been there for her, caring and loving and just _there_, for emotional support or otherwise. She didn't know what that would have looked like.

But whatever it should look like, Lorelai was determined to pull it off.

"So how do you want to do this?" she asked eventually.

Rory looked at the bathroom door, then down at the badly abused package in the bag in her arms, then back at the door. "I don't know. You can wait here, I guess..."

That hurt, a little, but she understood. At least she was here in the first place. At least Rory trusted her. As long as they had that, she couldn't sweat the small stuff.

Lorelai nodded slowly. "Okay..." Rory pushed the door open, but she stopped her daughter before she could go any farther. "Hey, kiddo..." Rory looked back, chewing on her bottom lip. "I love you, okay?" Rory smiled thankfully, air rushing out from her nose in something between a snort and a nervous laugh as she nodded in reciprocation. Then she stepped in and shut the door behind her.

Lorelai leaned against the wall, with half a dozen scenarios playing over and over in her mind's eye. Mostly it was the one she knew they both wanted. Rory would come out in a minute, relieved, and they would both laugh at everything that they'd worried about, at everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks—at Logan, and Jess, and those ridiculous worries, and—

It was the heavy thump from inside that snapped her out of her reverie, and she burst into the bathroom without a thought. The package from the drugstore was on the counter and the rug was out of place and Rory was on her rear end on the floor, hanging on the edge of the bathtub, pants pulled up but not buttoned and looking as if she'd slipped on said out-of-place rug.

"Rory!"

The expression on her daughter's face was also one of dead panic.

Rory pointed at the package. "I'm fine! I just went to grab one, and—" She kicked at the rug. "Hand me another one."

"_Another_ one?" Lorelai repeated, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Rory kicked at something else as she hauled herself back to her feet, and it skittered across the floor towards her mother—though that probably hadn't been her intention. "Yes; that one's defective! Hand me another one!" She went for the package herself, and Lorelai's attention went to the stick on the floor at her feet.

She had to brace her hands on the sides of the doorway she was standing in when she saw the abundantly clear readout glaring at her from within the tiny circle on it's side. She didn't even have to bend down to pick it up.

"Rory..."

"Why won't this stupid plastic open!" she complained, not listening.

When she was sure she had her breath Lorelai swallowed and stepped over the offending thing on the floor to get to her daughter. "Rory."

Rory still hadn't gotten the plastic off the second test, and she dropped it and grabbed for a third, probably hoping for a more cooperative package, but Lorelai took her by the shoulders and pulled her back. "Honey, you just peed; I don't think it'll happen again in the next five minutes."

"But—!"

"Come on, sweetheart, out of the bathroom."

"But Mom, I—it—!"

She tugged, gaining a couple of feet. "Come on."

"But...but..."

Rory was near to hyperventilation, and Lorelai pulled her out, closed the bathroom door behind them, and let the both of them sink to the floor against the wall in the hallway. Rory was still for a moment, but then tried to jump up again.

"But I have to—"

Lorelai held her down. "Not right now."

"But..."

"Rory, sit. Breathe," she ordered.

Rory sat—collapsed, more like—and Lorelai didn't know how long she was there, just holding onto her. It could have been minutes or hours or days, and she wouldn't have known the difference. Even when Rory was finally breathing evenly, leaning against her calmly, silently, still neither of them moved. Neither of them said a word.

Lorelai was preparing to tentatively break the silence when Rory did it for her.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," she said quietly.

"I know."

"I was supposed to be thirty and married and successful, and it was supposed to make me _happy_...and after everything with Sherry and Sookie and my being freaked out like an _idiot _over the whole...thing, I didn't know if I _ever_ wanted it to happen..." She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly, letting out an uneven breath. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way; I wasn't supposed to—"

She stopped abruptly, but Lorelai heard the rest of the sentence anyway. _I wasn't supposed to do the same thing you did._

They were silent again, staring together at the wall across the hallway.

This time Lorelai succeeded in being the one to break it.

"Rory...it's not the same." Her daughter just looked at her disbelievingly. "Well, it's not. You're not sixteen."

"Mom, it doesn't matter—"

"Yes it does. It does. You...have already graduated from _college_. You have a decent job, and a place to live, and family and friends who love you. This is _completely_ different from what happened to me. You'll...be fine. You'll be fine." She said it twice more to convince herself than because she thought Rory needed to hear it twice. On the contrary, she had quite good ears. "You're completely capable of taking care of...a child."

Rory grimaced. "That's assuming that I...you know, have it."

Lorelai's eyebrows went up. "Oh. Well...I mean, I guess that's up to you..." She shrugged uncertainly. "I guess you could—"

"No, I can't," Rory huffed, wincing as she dismissed it already. "I mean, what if _you'd_ done that? Where would _I_ be?"

"Right..."

"Yeah..." She looked down at herself. "I couldn't do that to whatever..._who_ever..." Her feet slid out suddenly, making room for her hands as they flew to her stomach. "Oh my god there's a _person_ in there!"

Rory looked up again, and the deer-in-headlights expression return in full force. "Mom, what am I supposed to do? _What_ am I going to do?" she demanded. Her breathing sped up again, almost dangerously so, and Lorelai grabbed her shoulders.

"Sweetie, calm down."

"Calm down? _Calm down_? Mom, I'm _pregnant_!" Her hands came up to scrape her hair out of her face, and when she dropped them her eyes had misted over. She snorted, or maybe she meant to, but it came out more like a sob and Lorelai's throat clenched. "I'm pregnant," she repeated more quietly, as if she hadn't believed it until that moment. She probably hadn't. Lorelai was still having trouble with that one herself.

Rory sobbed again. "What do I do?" she said again. "W-what about Logan? What will everyone in town think, and oh god, Grandma and Grandpa! What about—"

"Rory, slow down. We don't have to think about everything all at once." She was having trouble thinking at all. She just...didn't understand. Maybe Rory wasn't perfect, but what was the point of this? Why would whatever Powers That Be let this happen to her? It didn't compute.

In moments Rory was in her arms again, crying this time, and all Lorelai could do was hold on.

* * *

Rory accepted the hot chocolate from her mother and settled back farther into the cushions of the couch—supplemented by the extra blankets and pillows Lorelai had piled around and behind her. It wasn't necessary...but Lorelai had insisted on it anyway, along with pulling out the inordinate amount of junk food piled on the coffee table in front of them.

"All of this, and you wanted hot chocolate? That's against the rules in the summer, you know. Good thing you're my daughter; I wouldn't break the rules for just anyone."

She took a careful sip of the hot liquid and gave a tentative smile. "Thanks." Her mother curled up on the other end of the couch and put the TV remotes in her lap, and after another moment Rory sighed. "I'm sorry I completely freaked out on you like that."

Lorelai snorted. "Are you kidding? Are you seriously trying to apologize for that?"

"Well..."

"Rory, how do you think _I _reacted? And I was sixteen and I didn't have my mother there with me. I wouldn't have _wanted_ her there." She sighed. "It's okay. I understand." Then she leaned forward to rub her daughter's leg. "But you also need to understand that this isn't the end of the world. I'm going to be right here with you. You'll be okay. We will figure this out."

Rory swallowed and looked away for a moment, and her vision blurred again. Her chest constricted and she pulled in a breath to expand it before it exploded. "But...mom..."

"What?"

She held her mug close and stared into it. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever you _want _to say—that you're upset, disappointed, mad, you think I'm a horrible person because I let this happen even though I should have _known _better than most people to be careful...anything. Anything at all; just say _something_." She waited a moment and then looked tentatively up.

Lorelai was looking at her with all the love she'd always come to expect—maybe more. Rory didn't feel like she deserved it.

"Rory, listen...yes, I'm a disappointed."

She grimaced, gulping back fresh tears. "I know, and I'm _sorry_..."

Her mother scooted closer. "I know, sweetheart, but let me finish." Rory nodded slowly, and Lorelai started over. "Yes, I'm disappointed, and no, you weren't supposed to turn out like me, but...the thing is, you won't. Like I said; this is different. And no matter the situation, I love you. That's not going to change."

Rory swiped at her eyes as she halfway laughed her way through an aftershock sob from her breakdown upstairs. "I love you too, Mom."

Lorelai smiled reassuringly. "Again, you _aren't_ sixteen, and maybe that doesn't make it any less of a mistake, but that does mean it won't be as impossible to manage. You _do_ have a college degree, and a job, and an apartment, and at least some medical coverage, and Luke and I definitely aren't broke. We'll help however we can, or at least I know I will. Who knows? Maybe your dad will too. He's still loaded, and this kid _is_ going to be his first grandchild. You won't have to worry about the money or any of the other logistics."

Rory sat up suddenly, nearly spilling her hot chocolate all over herself. "But...how am I supposed to take care of a _baby_? Maybe you finally succeeded with Paul Anka, but that doesn't mean _I'm_ any better at taking care of anything living. What if I completely screw up? What if I kill the the poor thing before I even get it home! Mom, I can't _do_ this—!" She realized she was panicking again, and she deliberately stopped and sat back.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I never meant to do this to you."

Lorelai reached up and squeezed her hand, even though both of them were still wrapped around the mug in her grip.

"I know, kiddo."

* * *

Lorelai had told him that Rory was coming over after work and hinted that he shouldn't come home too early, so it was after ten by the time Luke got back to the house. He was surprised when the door opened before he got to it, and he saw it was Lorelai, motioning him to come in quietly. He went as silently as possible, and she shut the door noiselessly behind him.

"What's going on?" he whispered.

"Rory fell asleep on the couch," she answered just as quietly. "Come on." She took his hand and led him out to the stairs. He caught a glimpse of Rory, nearly drowned in a sea of blankets and pillows on the striped couch, and the remains of much too much junk food on the coffee table. Then Lorelai pulled him up the stairs and to the bedroom.

"Is she all right?" Luke asked immediately, once the door was closed.

Lorelai let out a breath. "There is a _really_ tricky answer to that question."

"What?"

"Well, for starters she's had a really long afternoon..." She reached up to rub at her temples. "So have I. God, I need ibuprofen."

"Lorelai..."

"Look, she gave me permission to tell you, even though she said she should tell you herself—her mess, and all that—but I told her she didn't have to. She really didn't _want_ to, but you know how dutiful she is, and I'm _glad_ she is, but I offered to do it anyway because she wanted to wait up, but she really needed to sleep—"

"Lorelai, what the hell is going on?" he interrupted.

She sighed. "Luke...Rory is pregnant." She held out her arms in an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. There really wasn't any other way to do that."

He stared at her for a moment. "You're not serious."

"I am serious. As a heart attack. You know I wish I wasn't, but as much as I want to be, I'm not superwoman. Or god. Or whatever."

Luke knew it took two, but he couldn't find it within himself to be angry at Rory. He'd never been capable of being angry at Rory. Frustrated, disappointed, yes, but never angry, and suddenly all he wanted was to incapacitate whoever had done this to her. "B-but she wasn't dating anyone, right?"

"No. She wasn't."

"Then _who_ the hell—"

"Logan."

"_What_?"

"Apparently he was in town visiting his parents, against his will might I add, and they ran into each other in Hartford, and..." She shrugged again.

Luke gaped for a moment. "That's what she was upset about a couple of weeks ago, wasn't? When she came into the diner."

Lorelai nodded once. "Yeah."

His jaw clenched. "I don't believe this..." He moved for the door and moved back, more than once. "I'll kill him! I swear to god, I'll kill him!"

His wife grabbed his arm. "_No_, you will not. He's probably long gone by now as it is, and he lives in California anyway."

"Then I'll take a damn plane to California!"

He went for the door and this time he didn't stop, knowing he couldn't really do what he wanted to do but wishing he could, and Lorelai stopped him again.

"Oh no you don't. Stop. Sit. Right now. I am not your mother too, Luke Danes; don't make me act like it."

Luke stopped and spun around, but he didn't go back to her. "We can't do nothing, Lorelai," he fumed.

"We are going to do plenty. Yes, Logan will have to know, and he will have to answer for this too, but we're not going to worry about that right now. Right now we need to worry about Rory. She needs us, and she needs us supporting her; she doesn't need you storming off to kill the father of her child. That's hardly the way to start a healthy, low-stress gestation, and yes, I just used a big word," she tossed in, crossing her arms tightly.

Now the worry was clear on her face, and Luke sighed and went to her then, pulling her into his arms. "You're right...I'm sorry."

She let out an unsteady breath. "I know. It's fine. I kind of felt like ripping his head off too."

Luke chuckled once and squeezed her closer. "Maybe later."

"Yeah," Lorelai nodded into his chest. "Later. Or at least in an extremely elaborate video game with a character designed to look just like him. Then we can do whatever we want."

"I'll get right on that."

There was silence for a moment.

"Luke?"

"What?"

"It'll be okay, won't it? I told Rory we'd help however we could..."

He nodded against her head as he held on. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I agree completely."

She sighed in relief and returned his embrace. "Good...good. Of course you agree." She paused. "Luke?"

"What?"

"I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

And...school rides again. Ugh. But here's the new chapter, finally! I hope you enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving vacation...lol. Anyway, here you go, and please do review. It helps so much. Thanks ya'll! And thanks for being patient with me...

Chapter 9

Luke was usually the first one up in the Gilmore household that was now sometimes three, but Rory was at the kitchen table staring forlornly into a bowl of cheerios when she heard him come downstairs the next morning. She'd been up for more than an hour already, and it was barely five thirty.

Five thirty. God, the last thing she needed to think about was the last time she'd been awake at five thirty.

Rory looked up at about the same moment Luke saw her and stopped in the kitchen doorway. One didn't necessarily preclude the other. At least she didn't think so. Not that it mattered. Luke, for his part, didn't seem to know what to say, so he stated the obvious.

"Your cereal's getting soggy."

She glanced down at it again. "I know. I thought I wanted it, but then I remembered that dairy products aren't usually considered the best thing to consume after one has thrown up."

When she looked up his eyebrows were hiked, for a moment. "Uhm, right. I guess. Well, for stomach flu and all, yeah, but I don't know if that applies to—" He stopped and abruptly turned to head for the coffee pot.

So he knew. Lorelai had told him, like she'd offered to. Somehow Rory felt immense relief and sharp guilt at the same time at not having had to do it herself.

"I already put the coffee on." She'd already put it on, and it was already done.

"So you did." Luke turned to look at her curiously, obviously noticing the distinct lack of a mug in front of her. "You're not drinking any," he said, with some degree of amazement in his voice.

Rory shrugged and looked away, not quite sure how to answer the question in that. "Don't want it to have two heads or anything..." Letting him know that she knew he knew.

She heard a quiet sigh, and then Luke had lowered himself into the next chair. "Well...you can _have_ coffee, you know. Just don't overdo it, I guess."

She grimaced. "I know. I just didn't feel like it."

That should have alarmed her right there. She should have been worried, wondering why on earth she didn't want coffee and she couldn't eat the cereal in front of her. She liked food. She _loved _coffee. But all she wanted to do was sit here and stare into nothing, and now she couldn't even do that because here was Luke, looking at her with concern. He also looked pretty damned uncomfortable at the whole situation, but he was concerned.

Luke blinked once or twice and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Oh. Okay. Normally I'd chalk that up to a miracle and let it go, but I don't think I should do that right now." His voice softened to a level not heard from him very often. "Are you okay?"

Rory stared at him for a moment, and he straightened and held up his hands in apology. "Right. Stupid question."

"Thanks anyway," she sighed.

Luke stood to pour himself a glass of skim milk—and again, _how_ did Lorelai Gilmore end up with a relative health nut?—and once the refrigerator closed he paused for a moment, not quite looking at her. "Rory...your mom _wasn't_ just speaking for herself. We'll both help in any way we can. Okay?"

Rory let out a breath and gave him what of a smile she could muster. "Thanks, Luke. I sorry you had to find out from Mom. I trust you, and I promise I would have—" The words started to come out too quickly, and she tripped over them about the time Luke stopped her anyway.

"Don't worry about it."

She swallowed. "Thanks, Luke," she repeated.

That was when Lorelai all but stumbled down the stairs and around to the kitchen, eyes nearly closed and pretending to still be asleep. An electrical beeping could be heard from upstairs. "Luke! You went downstairs before your alarm clock went off again. Which leaves _me_ to turn it off, which means by then I'm _awake_, and an hour before I want to be, unless it'a a weekend like today which means I'm awake _way_ before I want to be..." She trailed, scrubbing at her eyes as she leaned in the doorway, when she spotted her daughter.

"Oh...hey kiddo." Blinking herself into a more awake state, she came to the chair next to her husband and across from Rory, pulling it out and dropping into it so she could study her offspring without needing to stay on her feet. "What are you doing up?"

Lorelai squinted at her daughter for a moment, and everything seemed to come back. "Did you wake up sick?" she demanded.

Rory just winced.

"Honey, why didn't you come get me?"

"Well it wasn't a crisis; apparently I'll have to get used to it anyway, so I didn't want to bother you..."

"Rory, when you're home, bother me. I'm your mother; that's what I'm here for. You haven't been home enough in the past several years to keep up your previous level of bothering, so you're more than overdue to do all of it you want when you _are _home. Got it?"

Because it was her mother, and only her mother would have put it that way, Rory couldn't help but smile. "Yeah...I guess."

Lorelai held up a hand. "Besides. May the patron saint of mothers strike me down, but I kind of miss being bothered in the middle of the night for god-knows whatever. Accuse me of getting old and nostalgic if you must."

"Actually, I think that started a few years ago..." Luke interjected.

"Well I wasn't talking to you," she shot back.

Rory smiled a little more. "Thanks, you guys."

Luke shrugged and stood. "Any time." He stole a quick kiss from his wife and headed out for the diner, leaving mother and daughter alone.

"So," Lorelai said after another minute or two. "Any ideas for today's itinerary?"

"Phsycological damage control?" she snorted.

"Ah, sweetie," her mother sighed, getting up to got up to go for the cabinets. "Come on, let's find something you'll eat..."

Two pieces of toast and a pop-tart she hadn't really tasted later, Rory was grudgingly deemed fed well enough to continue the day, and Lorelai finally stopped hovering and let her out of the kitchen.

After that, she didn't know what to do with herself.

"Mom, I think I'm going into town," she called finally, after standing into the entry for several minutes staring at the door. Her mother poked her head in from the living room.

"You are?"

"Yeah...just to...walk around, clear my head, I guess."

Lorelai closed the distance between them and hugged her for a moment. "Okay...you want me to come with?"

"No, it's okay. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah..."

"You feeling any better?" she asked, pulling back to look at her.

"I'm not queasy at the moment, if that's what you mean," Rory shrugged.

"Okay. Good luck with the whole head thing, then. I've had a little experience with that myself. It's not always easy. The luck could be needed."

She snorted, loving her mother more than anything for always being herself. It was one of the few things keeping her sane right now. "So I gathered."

The short walk into town wasn't unwelcome, what with the being alone and able to hear herself think—as long as she didn't think to much. Or that was the original plan she'd had, in the clearing-her-head department.

It didn't work out so well.

One of her mother's main selling points for not-freaking-out had been that she wasn't sixteen. She was through college, had, a job, and Rory had taken that to mean that this didn't have change everything.

But it _would_.

She could keep the apartment, the job, everything...but it would all be different. And not that she was thinking about it much right now, but what abgout finding that one guy, huh? The one she wouldn't want to hesitate over. The one she was _really_ supposed to be with for the rest of her life. Wasn't finding _anyone_ notoriously harder when one had a child in tow?

A child.

Somehow even knowing how well her and her mother's relationship had turned out didn't help in realizing that _she_ was going to be a mother. Rory couldn't wrap her head around it.

Apparently she couldn't wrap her head around watching where she was going, either, because once she was across the square she stepped up onto the sidewalk right into the path of a passerby. She didn't see anything until the tall shadow was on her, and even then she wouldn't have snapped out of her reverie in time to stop if two strong arms hadn't snapped out to catch her shoulders and prevent the collision.

"Whoa, Rory, slow down!"

Finding herself jerked to a stop, Rory sucked in a breath and looked up in a daze. "Wh-what? Oh my god—I'm sorry...hi," she finished in lame surprise, when she saw who it was.

"Hey yourself," Dean answered. He let his arms drop. "We've got to stop bumping into each other like this; it could get dangerous."

She crossed her arms self-consiously over her middle. "Bumping into people can affect one's health all right," she muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

Dean looked at her in confused concern. "Are you okay?"

She let out the breath she'd pulled in. "Yeah, I guess, I just...sorry." Rory blinked at him. "Are you always up this early?"

He shrugged. "I haven't had a lot of choice the past few years, having to work and keep up with school. It's just a habit now. But I know_ you _don't make a habit of being up at 6:30, unless I missed something."

"No, you didn't miss anything..."

"Then what's going on? You were pretty upset last time I saw you...Did you get any of that straightened out, or...?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly. That's the problem."

Dean's hands went into his pockets as he looked at her intently. "Do you think you can tell me about it this time?"

And he seemed to genuinely want to hear it, whatever it was. Rory looked at him, and she could see it in his eyes, too. He cared. Whatever he'd been doing, exactly, for the past five years, somehow had he...been able to forgive her? Was that why he could talk to her like this? She could tell that it was still awkward, for both of them, even if they weren't making it apparent, but she doubted he would still be standing here if he didn't care. If he still hated her for the way she'd neglected him, left him heartbroken more than once.

Rory still didn't know what to make of Dean's attitude now, but she wasn't about to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth.

"Can we do something?" she blurted.

Dean blinked. "What?"

"I know this is going to sound stupid, but I can't...talk about it, and I just need...I mean we're friends now, right? That was the general consensus, yes?"

"Yeah..." he answered hesitantly.

"Then can we do something? Go somewhere? Hang out? Something? I need to do _something_. I don't need to think right now. I just need to...go. Or do. I know you were probably heading to Luke's, and I guess we could still go there first, but we can get you something to eat anywhere. Can we please just go? I would drag Lane out of her house right now, but she has kids and I don't want to do that to her. She doesn't have the capability of being as spontaneous, because I think Zach's at work today and she'd have to find someboday to watch them and—" The tirade stopped, hung over over the subject of children.

She was going to have one. In eight and a half months her life would be different like that, too. There would be a _new_ life, that depended on _her_, and she didn't know if she could _handle_ that, and—

A dry sob stuck in Rory's throat before she could pull it back, and Dean frowned.

"Rory?"

She quickly swallowed back anything that might have followed, and took an unsteady breath. "Can we please just go?"

She felt pathetic and ridiculous, staring up him and asking him for anything, esecially this desperately, but not because she was afraid he'd think she was crazy. Somehow she knew he wouldn't. Maybe a lot of that was because she knew that he knew her, but something about this knew attitude of his told her that, too. It had put her more at ease from the beginning, besides the shock of seeing him the first time, after the wedding.

Rory hoped it meant he would help her now. She wasn't even sure what she wanted, or what she needed, but she knew she needed help. Walking into town alone hadn't been such a bang-up idea after all. If she was alone with herself one more moment she'd lose it.

And she didn't know why, but she knew that, small remaining awkwardness aside, being around Dean would help. Maybe it was just because he was the only person in sight now that she knew, but that didn't matter to her.

For one of the longest moments of her life Dean stared at her uncertainly, hands still in his pockets as he stood there, looming over her like he always had. Strange how that had never bothered her before. It was a little intimidating now, fearing rejection.

Finally he let out a breath and shrugged. "Okay. What do you want to do?" Part of him still looked a little apprehensive, but she could forgive him that.

Still, her eyebrows went up at the fact that he'd agreed. "Well...I don't know."

"You were right about Luke's. I was on my way there...we could get some coffee."

Rory resisted the urge to laugh. "I think coffee is the last thing I need right now."

Dean forehead scrunched at that, but he didn't protest.

"Okay, uh..."

"Hot chocolate though...that might be good." She'd wanted hot chocolate last night, too. Her first craving, maybe? Or did that even start this early? Or maybe she just wanted it, and any connection was in her head.

Or maybe she should stop thinking, since that was the whole point of this exercise in all but humiliating herself asking Dean to do something with her.

"I think Luke has that, doesn't he?"

Rory shrugged now. "I don't know. I think so, but...could we maybe...go somewher that's not Luke's?" There wasn't one single reason why she didn't want to go to Luke's. Luke knew, and she trusted him, but he knew, and he would give her that look, because she was with Dean, and it had nothing to do with Dean, but her nerves were frayed enough as it was...

"Uh, sure. Weston's, then?" Dean asked, confused but apparently trying to be acoomodating.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Okay..."

Weston's was back the way Rory had come, and she turned and fell into step beside Dean as he slowly headed that way. Somehow she couldn't help but remember the last time they'd been in Weston's together. It had been the first time they'd really talked after their breakup senior year, and they'd walked there together after bumping into one another, similar to today.

Right now felt a lot like that day, except that they were nearly seven years older, and she had a lot more to think about now. Neither of them really said anything until after they'd sat down and ordered, and Rory wondered if it was because he felt it, too—because he was remembering, like she was. She would probably never know, but it as enough to be here. It had been long enough since then that being here could feel good.

Despite everything that was happening now, being here with Dean felt good.

* * *

Lorelai stayed at home for a while, wondering if she should have let Rory go or if she should have done after her or insisted on going with her in the first place and if she was all right out there.

She had to remind herself that her baby was 24 now.

And about to have a baby herself.

Oh, god.

Finally Lorelai left the house and headed for Luke, hoping Rory was there but promising herself that she wouldn't go looking if that wasn't so. The girl needed her space, and by letting her go Lorelai had conceded to give it.

Still, she walked to Luke's, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of her daughter. When she didn't, she was left with her thoughts. Sometimes that was fine, but not right now.

She was trying to be the collected adult, but it wasn't always easy.

The last thing Lorelai wanted right now were selfish thoughts, but one came through anyway. It came through because she knew what all of this meant. The promise she and Luke had made to Rory meant that until that baby was born and likely after, their lives outside of work would be about Rory, and about this new child. There would be no time to worry about...other things. About...

About having children of their own.

Rory wasn't at Luke's, and Luke was nowhere in sight just yet. He was probably just in the kitchen for a moment, but Lorelai sat down at the counter with nothing to pull herself out of her thoughts.

"Lorelai? Lorelai?"

She blinked and looked up, and there was Luke. "Hey. Where's Rory?"

"Oh, uh...she went out. For a walk or something, she said. She's fine."

"Okay." He looked at her for another moment, coffee pot in hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she lied, smiling. "I'm fine."

* * *

"And seriously, don't wait on sending out resumes and such, or on deciding, either. I waited too long on both, and well, everything turned out okay, but maybe I would be a little farther along in my career if I hadn't taken my own sweet time, so definitely watch yourself there," Rory finished.

She and Dean had skimmed through their respective college experiences, though Rory had left out anything pertaining to Logan, and he had left out any girls, if there had been any. She got the impression that there hadn't been. For the last little while, at Dean's request, she'd told him some of what being on the campaign trail had been like. And there was the subject of what Dean himself was planning.

"Yeah, I kind of figured," Dean answered. "I've been doing some cursory looking around, trying to get an idea of where I want to send those resumes. Of course I can't be too picky these days, but I don't want to go too far if I can help."

"Why not?"

He smirked. "For one thing, Clara would kill me if I did."

"But she'll be going to college in a year or two, won't she?"

"Yeah, she'll be a senior in the fall. I don't think she wants to go far either, though. She gets along with our parents a lot better, in the first place..."

Rory winced and took a swallow of her hot chocolate. "Ah."

Dean looked at her for a moment, and she looked at first, but then looked away. She could tell he was debating whether or not to say something, and she didn't want to get in the way.

"You don't have to feel that way, you know. If that's what it is."

She focused on him again. "Like what?"

"Guilty," he answered quietly. "Over...that. How I get along with my parents now, or what caused it, or...anything," he finished uncomfortably, not quite looking at her.

Her mouth hung open for a moment before she answered. "Oh..." Everything about the last time they'd been together was still a jumbled, confused mess in her head even now, but still...she knew enough to know that she _should_ feel guilty. "But—"

Dean cut her off. "No, Rory. Look...anything with us that may or may not have had anything to do with it was a long time ago. My relationship with my parents isn't something you need to worry about. Besides...it's starting to get better. I told you that, didn't I?"

"Yeah...I think you mentioned it when I saw you after the wedding."

"Good." He nodded and went back to his pancakes, seeing as this was breakfast for him.

Rory sat back in her chair and took a few more sips of her hot chocolate, noticing that it was nearly gone. After another moment or so she spoke again. "Dean?"

His fork paused on the plate and he looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"At the wedding, even since then, once you were back...you were trying to avoid me at first, weren't you?"

Dean's eyebrpws went up. "What? I—"

"You were nice, when caught. But you were trying to leave the wedding without being seen at all, the first time I ran into you last month you ran off as quickly as you could, and maybe you did sit down with me that time we met at Luke's, but I could tell you really didn't want to. Two weeks ago was the first time I've seen you in years that I didn't feel at least a little like you'd rather be somewhere else. I wasn't really thinking about it, but...I noticed."

"Rory..."

It had been nice, sitting here, able to really talk to him again, but it had also given her time to put together the small clues that had led to that conclusion, and she needed it to be out in the open. She knew that he cared, but she didn't want his friendship if there was part of him that _didn't_ want it.

"I want to know the truth."

He let out a breath and lowered his eyes. "I guess maybe I was. Trying to avoid you, I mean," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I can understand it. I just...I need to know that you weren't just being nice, when you said we should try to be friends again. I don't want to feel like I pressured you into it by being as completely pathetic as I was last time you saw me. I don't want to think it was only because you felt sorry for me."

"That wasn't it at all."

"Because if you want to be friend, then fine. I still think it's a good idea—or at least a decent idea, I guess, if but you don't really want, to then—"

"Rory, I do," Dean insisted. "Listen..." He set his fork down outright and crossed his arms on the small table as he looked across it at her. For a moment he stared at his arms, maybe collecting his thoughts, and she waited anxious. Then he looked up once more and sighed.

"I've spent the past five years trying to get my life together. I went to college, got new jobs, made friends—even with a lot of my teachers, which has helped a good bit. Like I told you two or three months ago, I'm not a straight-A student, but I work as hard as I can and I'm pretty damn close. I think I've done okay for myself, and I'm proud of that—that I've...moved on, I guess. For a while, at first, I didn't want to, but I did it, or I thought I had, but then I saw you at the wedding."

His eyes lowered again. "I think I was scared, seeing you at all. I don't know what I'd expected, but I was afraid to find out, so...there was no consious decision, but when I actually made it back for the summer I think I did try to avoid you, at first." Dean shrugged. "Then I realized I was being stupid. I mean, you haven't really gotten over something if you can't even think about it, right?" He sat back, still looking thoughtful, and finally looked her in the eyes again. "I think this is another step."

Rory swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that however he'd gotten there, he knew more than she did about a few things. She smiled, because he was right. She didn't understand it _all_, not yet, but maybe, she thought, she should be trying.

"Ah, so being my friend now is actually all about you?" she retorted in amusement.

Thankfully, being Dean he recognized the humor for what it was—her coping mechanism for dealing with serious conversations, not a legitamate opinion or insult—and laughed.

"No, but if _you_ need to feel less selfish about this and want to think of it that way, go right ahead," he chuckled.

Rory smiled, and wasn't surprised that she was doing it. Maybe her life was turning upside-down, but this had been a good idea. Maybe she could call Jess a friend now, but she rarely really saw him. Dean, however, was _here_, at least for a while, and it felt good.

And maybe, with a little more time, the left-over strangeness would fade. Maybe it could be a more than a fleeting experiment.

Now more than ever she didn't know how things would turn out with Logan—if they would ever find some lasting middle ground as her parents had, or if they would hate each other for the rest of their lives....

But maybe it would never have to be that way again with either Jess _or_ Dean.

Maybe she could keep _both_ of them forever, just like this.

Friends.

Even as Rory smiled across the table at Dean, the hand that wasn't holding her mug went self-consiously around her middle under the table.

Friends. God knew she was going to need them.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry ya'll! But I had half a dozen projects and tests and such in the week or so leading up to vacation, and then vacation turned out to give me no time to write instead of more. We stayed busy, and I'm very sorry. I hope you're all still out there and still interested. :) Please do review and let me know what you think and if you _are_ here. Thanks, and enjoy!

Chapter 10

Rory wouldn't have thought it would be so easy to return to comfortable conversation after such a reletively deep subject, but somehow they did it—and it didn't seem strange at all. It didn't take much longer for Dean to finish eating, and by then what was left of Rory's hot chocolate was long cold. She swallowed the last bit in one gulp before following Dean outside. Out on the sidewalk, he glanced back at Weston's.

"So...was that 'something' or just the precursor to something?" he asked curiously. There was no inflection at all; no indication of a preference one way or the other. It was simply an honest question, and his expression was sincere as he asked it.

"What do you mean?"

Dean shrugged. "Well...I guess I mean that I've got work this afternoon, but it's barely nine in the morning and for the moment I'm still free."

"Work?"

"Yeah; I've still got both jobs in New Haven. I went part time for the summer so I could be here, but I have to work. I need the money to finish up school in the fall."

"Right," Rory nodded. "Of course. Work. I...no, that was definitely something," she concluded, answering the original question. "That was more than something; that was plenty." It was true, too. Sure, maybe nothing had changed, but she felt...better. At least the deperate, panicked pressure in her chest had faded.

That, and she didn't want to push her luck.

She sighed. "Thank you...you know, for putting up with me and my impulses. I just needed to...talk to someone, I guess. Not about...but just talk," she fumbled.

Dean gave her a strangely knowing smile. "It's fine. You're welcome." He smirked shyly. "Thanks for listening to me and my admittedly confusing logic."

"Are you kidding? After the years you spent listening to _me_, I owe you..."

"Maybe." He started to move off, but paused to look at her for a long moment. "Look...I guess, if you ever need anything else..."

Rory's eyebrows went up. "Oh, well...sure. too. Thanks."

He nodded once. "I'll see you later then?"

"Sometime, inevitably—or so it seems."

The corner of Dean's mouth quirked up, and he left. Rory turned to go too, but only made it a step before she realized that he couldn't do much with the return offer she'd given him; she turned back to call after him.

"But you don't have my new number!"

They said it together, and she found Dean taking the last of several strides back to her. They both froze when they realized they'd overlapped each other, and Rory was the first to recover.

"Your house number's not the same?"

"Yeah, of course it is; I meant I have a new cell phone."

She blinked. "Oh." So...he didn't mind if she had his cell phone number. Well. Another step, she supposed—one she wasn't going to argue with.

She pulled her own phone from her purse, and by the time she'd done that Dean had his out of his pocket and they simply traded devices to input numbers. Rory didn't know which she wanted, so she tapped in both her cell and her apartment phone and handed it back, realizing he'd been waiting for a moment since completing his own task.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

He gave a half shrug, as if to say it didn't matter, and his hands went into his pockets with his phone. "Bye." She smiled again, a little at least, and wacthed him go.

Well...there it was, the awkwardness that was still prevalent. It wasn't enough to deter her, but it was enough to remind her that _any _friendly relationship with Dean would take some work. Considering it couldn't be any worse than her current situation as a whole, Rory didn't mind that so much. In fact, she rather relished the idea of challenge she was actually relatively sure she could overcome—versus the one she didn't even want to think about right now.

She looked up and down the sidewalk for a moment, at a loss as to where to go. Finally she made her way to Luke's, and found her mother there at the counter. She didn't know what to say as she took the next stool, so she said nothing. For once, Lorelai didn't have much to say, either.

"Hey..."

"Hey, Mom."

From behind the counter, Luke set a mug down in front of her. "You ready for that coffee yet?"

Rory stared at the empty mug for a moment. Seeing Dean had kept her from losing her sanity, but nothing had changed. And with Dean gone, the happiness of the progress they'd made that morning was pushed to the back of her mind.

She sighed and picked up the mug to hold it out to Luke and his coffee pot. "Fill 'er up."

* * *

Rory stayed until Sunday afternoon, but Lorelai wasn't certain why she did. She holed up in her room and, presumably, wrote. Or moped. And pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary. Whenever she emerged Lorelai tried to begin conversation—_any_ conversation. She tried to tell Rory that they needed to schedule a doctor apointment for her, get her on vitamins, and half a dozen other issues...

But Rory didn't seem to be listening. After everything Lorelai had tried to assure her of Friday night, either none of it was sticking or she was worrying too much to remember. Nothing was getting through. When she left it was nearly without a word. It wasn't until they were in front of the house at Rory's car that the facade broke—at least for a moment.

Rory held onto her for a long time, and Lorelai had no qualms about letting her. When her daughter finally pulled back, she took in a deep breath.

"Mom, look, I'm sorry, just...give me some time. Please?" she asked quietly.

Lorelai opened her mouth to comment on that, but Rory stopped her.

"I know, I know; I can't take too long. But please."

Lorelai sighed. It was against her better judgement, but she did have her daughter's mental health to consider. That, and she loved her. "Okay," she nodded, rubbing Rory's arm up and down once. "Some time."

Rory didn't quite smile. "Thanks." She let her mother kiss her forehead, and then she climbed into her car and was gone. It wasn't long before Lorelai sensed Luke at her back, and she leaned into the arm he slipped around her shoulders.

"Is she gonna be okay?" he asked after a moment. "Should you have let her go like that?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line for a moment before she answered. "She's got a lot to deal with right now, Luke. She knows we're here for her if she wants our help, and that's really all we can do. She has to figure out the rest for herself."

It was hard to say. It was hard to _think_. But it was the truth.

* * *

Rory nearly dropped the stack of folders in her hands when the phone rang, and barely got them to the counter to pick it up before it stopped.

"I was heading to work; please make it quick," she said immediately, assuming it was her mother. A little time had turned into a week, and then two, and...and she didn't know when it would end, when she would be readt, and she was tired of her mother's prodding questions about when it would be. She wouldn't have bothered to answer at all if the sound hadn't surprised her so badly already.

"_Sorry_," Jess answered. "_I don't get a lot of free time myself_."

She relaxed a little. "Oh. Hey. Haven't heard from you since you left here last time."

"_Business as usual, and then some. I assume it's the same there—which is probably why Luke seems to have the impression that you're a little stressed out right now_."

Rory scowled. "What?"

"_Last e-mail I got from him; he didn't really say much, but he seemed worried about you. He said you haven't been home in two or three weeks_."

"Luke can e-mail?"

"_It's a very recent development. He's not so great at it yet_."

"Wow, I really was gone for a while, wasn't I?"

"_Rory, are you okay_? _Like I said, he didn't give any specifics, but still...Luke doesn't worry for nothing, you know_."

She let out a breath. "Yeah, I know, I just...you hit it on the head. I've been busy. Thanks for the concern, but I've got it under control." She was glad he'd called. She was. It was a nice break from the monotany she'd voluntarily allowed herself to fall into over the past couple of weeks or so—because the routine was easier than thinking; it had worked before she'd known anything, and it worked now. Mostly. Still, she was glad to talk to him, but the last thing she wanted was a conversation of any real depth. He needed to drop it.

"_Don't tell me that_," Jess answered immediately.

"Tell you what?"

"_Look, I may not know you as well as I would have if I hadn't run off, but I do know you. I know when you're avoiding something, anyway. I can hear it_."

"Jess, I'm fine."

"_The immediate denial doesn't help your case_."

Rory glowered into the phone. "So what, is this going to become a regular occurrence now? Two lines in an e-mail and you give me the third degree?" There were things she didn't want to talk about, but avoiding talking about them only made her _think_ about them, and she didn't want to do that, either. All she wanted _now_ was to get off the phone and get to work.

"_It was more like _one_ line, really_."

But she shouldn't be angry at Jess. He only pressed because he cared, and she took a deep breath to keep from snapping again. "Fine. Whatever. Look, I need to go or I'll be late for work."

She heard him sigh. "_Fine. But keep in touch, ok? Don't go shutting down on me because something's going on over there—if that's what it is. Let me help_."

Rory rubbed at a temple with her free hand in hopes of staving off the headache she could feel coming. "I really don't think there's anything you can do."

There was silence for a moment. "_So something_ is_ going on."_

She refused to answer, because skirting around it didn't help either, in the not-thinking-about-it department.

"_Whatever. I'll let you go_."

"Jess—"

But the line had gone dead.

* * *

Luke didn't expect the day to go any differently than every day of that past three weeks. Every day had been the same, and he hadn't expected a change. Every day began early, as his days always had, but every day since Rory had left again had been just a little less bright than usual. Lorelai didn't talk much, and as a result he didn't have much to say to anyone, either.

He'd known going into a relationship with Lorelai that her daughter would always be a part of it, and that had never bothered him because he loved them both. The mother-daughter feud of four years past had been _enough_ to bear, and he could only hope that the current relative silence between them wouldn't last. As far as he knew there was no hostility in it, but it worried him.

Still, he hadn't expected the call that came from out by the counter after he'd ducked into the kitchen during a lull that afternoon.

"Luke? You back there?"

He frowned in confusion and emerged from the kitchen to answer the young woman now standing by his register. "Rory?"

She crossed her arms and let out a breath. "Yeah. Hey."

Luke approached to rest a hand on the edge of the counter as he faced her. "Decided to grace us with your presence, did you?"

Rory grimaced. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I was...freaking out."

There were only two or three customers still scattered through the diner, which gave him the freedom to not worry too much about monitoring the volume of his voice. "Well I guess you had a right too, but you could have answered the phone more often. Lorelai has been moping around for almost three weeks worried about you. _I_ was worried about you." Now though, he lowered his voice. "And it didn't help that it's not just you we had to worry about."

She glanced down almost involuntarily, but quickly jerked her head up again. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

Luke stared at her for another moment before he spoke again, his tone softening. "So what are you doing here?"

Rory swallowed. "I uh...I wanted to know if you and April were still taking that boat trip—and if I was still invited."

He felt his eyebrows climb. "Oh. Well, yeah. April's flying in Friday. We're leaving Saturday morning." He shrugged. "Of course you're still invited, if you want to go. Do you want to go?"

She nodded immediately. "I think I kind of...need to."

Luke chose not to ask for details. "Okay, well...is that enough time for you to get ready? That only gives you a couple of days to sort things out at work; we can wait a little, if you need us to..."'

"No, no, that should be fine. I'll be ready." She hesitated. "Are you sure? You don't mind? I don't want to intrude on your time with April, or anything..."

"Hey, inviting you was my idea in the first place, remember? And I _did_ clear it with April first."

Rory smiled uncertainly. "Right. Thanks." She started to step back, acting as if she were going to leave already.

"Whoa, hey, where are you headed? Did you want some coffee or something...?"

"I don't have a lot of time; I have to go to work in the morning. I should head back to Hartford."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "You drove all the way out here just ask me if you could go on a boat trip?"

She winced. "I thought I should ask you in person. You were right; I _have_ been kind of avoiding you guys since..." She trailed off and shrugged.

"Yeah."

"It had nothing to do with you or Mom, I promise. I just—"

"Yeah," he repeated.

Rory took a deep breath. "Anyway, thanks. I should get going." She smiled a little, sheepishly. "Can I have a rain check on taking that coffee?"

"It'll still be here Friday."

"A different pot, I hope."

"Same pot, different batch of coffee."

"That's what I meant."

"I know that's what you meant."

"Then why mention it?"

Luke shrugged. "It makes things more interesting."

Rory smirked. "Well you know I could do this all evening, but I was just going."

He crossed his arms and looked at her closely. "You're not going to go talk to your mother?"

The smirk disappeared. "I uh...I think I'm gonna need those couple of days of that one." Her eyes ducked. "Don't worry about it; I'll stay at the house Friday night anyway, so..."

It wasn't what he'd hoped for, but he'd take what he could get. It was progress, anyway. "If you say so."

"I'll talk to her then, I promise. But really, I should go now."

Luke nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Can I tell Lorelai you were here?"

"You probably would no matter what I answered."

He shrugged. "Good point."

Rory readjusted her purse on her shoulder and turned for the door. "Thanks, Luke; see you Friday."

"Yeah..."

And he watched her go, hoping he was getting the whole step-father thing at least halfway right.

* * *

"She came to the diner to talk to you, but she didn't come see _me_?" Lorelai repeated incredulously. It made no sense whatsoever, but Luke wouldn't lie.

"See, _this_ is why I considered not telling you at all..."

She snorted, took a sip from her coffee mug and carefully lowered herself to the couch beside him. "Well then I would have hated both of you, so you made the right choice."

"Nice to know."

Lorelai let out a breath. "Well I know this is...kind of bad. Crazy. Scary. I was there. I know she may not want to face this yet, but she has to. And she could talk to me, for crying out loud. Is that too much to ask?"

Luke shrugged. "No, but...really, Lorelai, how did _you_ react after you found out you were pregnant with Rory? What did you do for the first few weeks after that?"

She sat forward and opened her mouth, and closed it again before sitting back once more. "I freaked out quietly on the inside and went to school and pretended nothing was different," she mumbled.

"See?"

"But she's twenty-four Luke, not sixteen. She's supposed to be more adult—you know, generally more mature?"

"In a lot of ways she is, but just because she's an adult doesn't mean it's impossible that she's every bit as scared as you were."

Lorelai swallowed back a sudden lump in her throat and took a gulp of coffee to push it back but didn't entirely succeed. "I know, but...I don't _want_ her be. I _never_ wanted her to have be scared like that. I never wanted her to have go through this at _all._She was supposed to grow up and go to Harvard and have a brilliant career and _eventually _get married and have her 2.5 kids, and live the American dream a whole lot better than most people get to. _That's_ what was supposed to happen, not _this_..." she sobbed. "God, I_ knew_ we shouldn't have folded on Yale. Everything just skewed off from there..."

She was crying, and Luke had long since pulled her into his arms and set her mug on the coffee table. "It's okay. It's okay...She'll still have all of it. I promise."

She calmed some and nodded, but then scowled in no particular direction. "It was still stupid to let her go to Yale though," she grumbled.

"Hey, Yale was good for her and she did great there. Yale was fine."

Lorelai crossed her arms and shrugged. "Sure. But if she'd gone to Harvard she'd have never met Logan Huntzberger."

Luke sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Look, let's just give Rory a break over this one, okay?"

She shook her head. "I'd love to, but I can't," she said, finally the mother again. "I have to talk to her as soon as she gets home."

* * *

Two days was indeed enough time to get things sorted out at work, though it took a little more convincing than Rory had anticipated. Still, it wasn't _too_ much trouble and Friday couldn't have come quickly enough. She put her bags in the car the night before and headed home straight from work, hoping that with Luke gone to pick up April and her mother at the inn she would have the house to herself for a little while before any of them returned.

But the jeep was in the driveway when she got there.

Rory sat in her car and stared at the house for several minutes, before finally deciding to get out and go in anyway. She wasn't sure what to expect; if Lorelai had noticed her pull in, she likely would have been out the door already.

She pulled her bags from the back seat and made her way inside, dropping them in the entryway to look for her mother.

"Mom? I'm home."

"In the kitchen."

Rory edged around the corner into the kitchen. "Hi, Mom."

Lorelai was sitting at the table, sipping coffee and facing the kitchen doorway. "Hey."

"Hey."

"How are you doing? Been sick a lot?"

"Some, yeah. It's...annoying, but probably not as bad as it could be."

"Well if you're not complaining about it too much it's probably not, no."

Rory shrugged. "I guess not."

Her mother set her coffee mug down and stood, crossing her arms. "So you're going on this boat trip with Luke and April, huh?"

"Yeah, uhm...the whole...just working thing wasn't working, so..."

"So what, you're trading one kind of running away for another, is that it?"

"What?"

"That's exactly what you're doing."

Rory grimaced. "Mom—"

"No, Rory. Luke and I have spent the last three weeks worried about you, and we've barely heard a word. We support you and promise to help you out, and that's how you repay us? You block us out the moment you get away from Stars Hollow? What the hell _is_ that?"

"Mom, I'm _sorry. _It wasn't you guys, I swear. I mean, I'm _glad_ you reacted the way you did; that you want to be here for me. I'm thankful for that. I'm going to need that. I just—"

"You're scared."

She swallowed. "Well—of course I'm scared. Weren't you?"

Lorelai nodded once. "Scared as hell. But running around pretending everything's all good isn't going to change anything."

"I know that..." she trailed.

Her mother shrugged. "Then what are you doing, Rory?" she asked quietly. "We want to help, but we can't do anything if you won't even answer the phone."

When she was right she was right, and...she was right. Rory had known it all along—it was only common sense—but pretending had been easier. It was _still_ easier.

But she couldn't do it anymore, could she?

"I know."

Lorelai looked at her closely. "Well?"

Rory nodded. "I know. I do." She swallowed again and found her throat clogged. "I'm sorry," she choked. The next moment she found herself in her mother's arms, being rocked back and forth, just a little, as if she were a child.

It was strangely comforting, and yet not so strange at all. She remembered what it had felt like, all those years ago when she really was young. Rory held on tight, blinking back tears. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry. Please help me..."

"That's what I'm here for, sweetie. I'm here."


	11. Chapter 11

And then there were finals. Which are still going on. :P I must get back to studying as soon as I post this, but here you go! Merry Early Christmas! I hope you all have wonderful holidays! I also hope you enjoy this chapter and review it. ;)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Yes, I will still be working on this story as fast as I can, but I'm also going to start a Buffy The Vampire Slayer fic soon, I believe. I just finished watching all seven seasons of the show, which I only started 4 or 5 months ago, and I loved it. I want my own Giles. :P (In the awesome British librarian can-fight-too father figure sort of way, of course.) Anyway, it'll be a season 4 or 5 Giles and Buffy friendship Watcher/Slayer relationship thing with much angst and hurt/comfort, and it'll stay with canon/continuity, if anyone's interested. Maybe I'm crazy, but many of you already knew that. LOL. Actually, it'd be great if any of you mentioned whether or not you'd be interested. Thanks! Enjoy the new chapter. :)

Chapter 11

Luke made it back to the house with April an hour or so later, and by then Rory and Lorelai were ready to greet them. It was evening already, and the four of them walked into town to eat at the diner. Lorelai and girls went home afterward, leaving Luke there to make sure Ceasar and everything was prepared for his absence.

April was happy enough to sleep on the couch, but Rory saw no reason to make her when there was trundle bed in her room. After all, they were something like sisters now...

That, and she didn't feel like being alone with her thoughts just now. She knew there were things that needed to be thought about, but she preferred to wait—at least until they were out on the water. That seemed a better place to do it.

Rory felt asleep quickly, but she woke from a dream halfway through the night to the sounds of restless tossing and turning from the trundle. She rolled to glance over the edge of her own bed, and found April staring at the ceiling. She looked at her for a moment before speaking.

"Hey. Everything okay?" she asked quietly. There was no answer. "April?"

The younger girl blinked and glanced at her. "What? Oh. I'm fine. Just excited, I guess. Not that a boat trip is the most brilliantly exciting thing to do with a fourth of one's summer, but I haven't seen Luke since Thanksgiving. Things got kind of busy this year."

"So I heard. I'm sorry you couldn't get here for the wedding."

"Me too. Yet another reason why Dad has a lot to make up for this summer."

Rory nodded once. "I guess so. Are you sure you don't mind me coming?"

"No, of course not. I mean we're sisters now anyway, sort of. Just because it's not biological doesn't mean the relationship's not important, right?"

She smiled a little. "Yeah...that's right." She shrugged. "I had it great, with my mom and all, but...I suppose there was always some small part of me that would have liked to have a sibling."

April nodded once. "The innate wish of any only child, I suppose; I know how you feel." She sat up, and Rory followed suit after a moment.

"Well, I guess we're not anymore—only children, I mean."

"I guess not."

Rory nodded. "Well, now that _that's_ settled..." she chuckled. She didn't know where to go from there. She did like April, but right now talking to anyone at all that didn't know about—

It just seemed awkward.

She took a deep breath, deciding to do her best to get past it. Maybe for her it was also about getting away one more time, but this trip was first and foremost about spending time with Luke and April. If she couldn't do that, then there was no reason to bother them by coming along.

Rory leaned forward, arms resting on her crossed legs. "So...ready to go back to sleep yet?"

"Not particularly. But I can be quiet, if _you_ want to. Do you mind if I turn a lamp on though? I brought several books, and—"

"Yeah, that's fine. I uh...I don't think I'm going back to sleep either, though."

"Sorry about that; I probably woke you up."

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "It was a dream, that's all."

"A bad one?"

"Kinda..."

April looked at her for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Rory blinked. "What?"

The younger girl shrugged. "It's just that...I didn't really hear from Luke at all for the last few weeks before I got here. It was like he was...distracted or something. And on the drive here from the airport he seemed a little off, like he was worried about something—presumably whatever had been distracting him before. When I asked him how everybody here was he kind of reacted weird."

"Weird?"

"He seemed very quick to say that everyone was fine, gave a few details about Lorelai and the inn and sort of skipped over the subject of, well, you..."

Rory swallowed. "Oh, that? It's-it's nothing, really. Things have just been crazy recently, at work and such, settling into the new job in Hartford and all, and I know he was concerned...uhm...that's it, really, I'm sure."

April nodded slowly in understanding. "Okay...sure."

And she wasn't completely buying it, was she?

Rory let out a breath and sank back under her covers. "I think I am just gonna try to get back to sleep. You can go ahead with the lamp and read or something if you want."

"Okay...good night."

"Yeah. Good night."

* * *

The sun was high and bright the next day, and Rory could hear the water lapping against the dock under them as she hugged her mother.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lorelai asked again. Luke and April were already on the boat, so she was able to elaborate. "I'm mean I'm not so sure a boat trip is the best companion to morning sickness."

Rory let out a breath. "Maybe I haven't been on one in a while, but I've always been fine on boats. I'll be fine. Besides, the uh...it hasn't really been that bad, Mom. Really."

Lorelai snorted. "Lucky you."

She grimaced, and her mother pulled her in for another quick hug.

"Don't mind me. Completely ignore me if you want. Just...take care of yourself, I guess, and try to have some fun..."

"Yeah, I'll try, anyway. I promise. Thanks, Mom," Rory answered quietly.

Lorelai kissed her forehead, and handed her the only of her three small bags Luke hadn't already loaded for her. "If you start feeling too bad, get off and hop on a bus home, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Mom," she huffed, smiling in amusement at her mother's protectiveness. Lorelai ushered her to the edge of the dock, where Luke took the bag from her and then offered his other hand to help her aboard. She accepted the offer and made in onto the boat without any incident.

Lorelai stepped back as Luke cast them off, waving enthusiastically. "Have fun! Call when you can. Don't leave me uninformed or I'll kick your collective asses when you get home!"

Rory waved, April chuckled, and Luke gave a mock salute, and they were on their way.

* * *

Three days later, the time on the water with Luke and April seemed to Rory to have done her a world of good. She did get sick at times, but it wasn't much worse than she'd already been dealing with, and overall she felt much better besides. Most conversation was light and laughter wasn't so hard anymore as it had been for the past few weeks.

It was amazing what three days could do.

It was amazing what family could do.

Family. This was her family now, and it felt good. She'd never doubted that it would, but she didn't think she ever could have imagined _how_ good.

But feeling good didn't keep Rory from sitting alone sometimes on one of the bench seats at the edge of the deck, leaning on the railing and staring out across the water. She had a lot to work out, she knew, and watching the waves and breathing in the sea air while she thought about it all was one way to do it calmly. When she was there Luke kindly left her alone, and April seemed to take the hint.

Until the fourth day.

It was early morning, and by some miracle Rory was the first awake. She'd gone up on the deck to watch the sun rise. The water was there, but there was no movement save for the waves in the water itself. The boat was anchored for the night.

She didn't realize she wasn't alone until April sat beside her, pulling her knees up on the bench and looking out on the water with her.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Rory blinked and glanced at her step-sister. "Yea. I don't think i've ever seen one over water."

"Me either—and I definitely won't get the chance where I live now. Not much water in New Mexico period."

"I guess that's true," she chuckled.

April nodded silently, and looked at her for a long moment.

Rory shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

That garned considerably more blinking. "Excuse me?"

April shrugged. "There was all the weirdness I mentioned before we even left, Lorelai was obviously in over-protective mode the day we did leave, you get 'sea-sick' at the weirdest times—often when we haven't even been rocking very much at all—you wouldn't _touch_ the chicken Luke made day before yesterday, and you do a whole lot of the staring-off-into-space thing. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but I don't think I'm wrong."

Rory's mouth opened and closed a few times before she got out any sound at all. "I...ah..."

"I'm sixteen, Rory. I know things. I also have a friend who had a baby three months ago, but that's slightly irrelevant..."

She swallowed, staring at the younger girl. The look she was getting in return was honestly curious, not pushy, but still...not telling was one thing. Lying was another. She didn't want to lie—not to April.

"I uh...yeah," she confirmed softly.

April nodded slowly. "And I take it I would have heard by now if you were engaged or anything like that."

"Probably so."

"I see..." She glanced out at the water again. "Well I won't ask questions or anything. Even that much was probably none of my business. Granted, that usually doesn't stop me, but..."

Rory gave her a small smile. "Thanks." She sighed. "I knew you were smart, but I guess now I have to give you extremely observant, too."

"Comes with the science background."

"Makes sense now."

April nodded, and after a moment she spoke up again. "So what are you gonna do?"

Rory winced and focused on the sunrise again herself. "I know I'm going to have it. After that...it's all a big blank. Mom and Luke are the only two other people who know right now, and I already know they'll do whatever they can for me, but...I still don't know. What's going to happen, I mean. I don't know exactly what I want to do."

"Well...like I said, one of my friends in New Mexico just had a kid. I know a few things. Mom wasn't so happy about my continuing to, well, be her friend, but what was I going to do? Abandon her because she made one mistake? That's stupid. So uh, I guess what I'm saying is..."

Rory smiled more genuinely that time. "I think I get it, April. Thanks."

She hadn't seen many sunrises in her life, and in the rareness of the occasion and the semi-comfortable silence after this particular conversation...it didn't take her long to realize the appropriateness of the metaphor.

This was the start opf something. What, Rory didn't know...

But she couldn't run from it anymore.

* * *

Lorelai hadn't heard anything from her traveling crew since Tuesday morning, so she was more than eager to get the call from Rory's cell Thursday afternoon.

"What have you kids been doing that you forgot to let me in on it?" she complained good-naturedly as she answered.

"_Hey, Mom. Sorry, uh...things got...interesting yesterday. I'm not on the boat anymore_."

Her eyebrows went up. "Not on the boat? You heading home? Does the paper need you back, or did you get sick? Are you okay?"

"_I'm fine, Mom. You don't have to worry about me. I am heading home, but not right away. I got off because there's something I need to do_."

"Like what, honey?" Lorelai asked anxiously.

She heard her daughter let out a breath. "_I'm in Chicago, at O'Hare. I'm on a layover on my way to California. I...I have to tell Logan about the...the baby. I think he at least deserves to be told in person_."

Lorelai made it to the couch and carefully lowered herself into the cushions. "Okay...I guess I understand that. It's a good step, but...do you even know exactly where he is? Do you have an address?"

"_Grandpa found it for me. It only took him an hour to call me back yesterday. He has his ways_."

She snorted. "Don't I know it. But what'd you tell him?"

"_A pointed lack of details. I just told him I needed it. I don't even rmember exactly what I said. Maybe I told him I'd found something I needed to sne d back; I don't know. Grandpa protested a little, but he got the address_."

"So we're safe on the grandparent front for now."

"_Yeah...for now. But we have to tell them when I get back_."

Lorelai's mouth dropped open? "When you get back? As a few days from now when you get back? What happened to the wait-as-long-as-possible plan?"

"_Who said that was the plan_?"

"Sweetie, sanity said that was the plan."

She could almost hear Rory shaking her head on the other end of the line. "_Mom...we can't do that. I wish we could, but...you know it'll just hurt them worse if we don't see fit to tell them sooner than when-we-have-to_."

Lorelai swallowed. "Yeah. I know. But are you sure...?"

"_I'm sure. Or, well, no I'm not—but I don't think we have a choice. Coming out and telling them is about the only chance we have of softening the blow at all_. _Or I have. I suppose I'd understand if you wanted to be very far away_."

"Rory, don't talk like that. I love you, and you know I'll be there for you. Maybe I'll be terrified right along with you, but I'll be there."

Rory chuckled quietly. "_Yeah. I know_." She paused. "_Thank you. Again_."

Lorelai pulled her feet up under her on the couch. "No problem, kiddo." She bit a lip for a moment, wondering what else she was supposed to say that this point. "Good luck. Until you get back I'm just a phone call away, okay? Let me know if I need to come out there and yell at him for you. Or beat him up. That too. Whatever's needed."

Her daughter's laugh was a little stronger this time. "_Thanks, but I think the idea of this exercise was to do something right, and handle it myself_."

"If you insist."

"Mom..."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "Just...be careful." Not that there was any danger...unless to her daughter's heart.

Rory seemed to know she meant. "Thanks, Mom," she answered quietly.

* * *

The water was quiet, and as the sun set in the distance Luke and April sat on the deck of the boat, eating the food they'd picked up at the nearest store when they'd left Rory at bus station on shore that morning. She'd been bound for the nearest airport, and was doubtlessl well on her way to California by now.

"Is she gonna be okay?" April asked eventually.

Luke sighed. "I sure hope so." He winced. "You do know that it's not like we were _keeping_ it from you; it's just that none of us knew just what we were going to do about any of it yet, and—"

"It's fine," she answered honestly. "Believe me, I know enough about adults by now to get a few of their reasons for doing things—protect the innocent minors from unneeded information, and all that. That, and it wasn't exactly my business. It's cool. I just hope everything turns out okay."

Luke could help but smile a little at his daughter, marveling yet again at how lucky he was. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

The apartment building was nothing like the house with the avacado tree. From the outside it seemed just like every place Logan had had in Hartford, or New York...exactly the same. As far as Rory knew, he was working the same job he'd wanted to bring her with him to take two years ago. Only in the end he didn't have her, and the house he'd found had apparently been long forgotten because there would have been no one to share it with.

Somehow it made her sad, that he was the same. That he hadn't moved on like she'd tried to. She didn't even_ need_ to see the apartment building to know that. She'd known it since the last time she'd seen him, from the way he talked.

Logan had never let her go, and what she had to tell him now wasn't going to help.

But he had to know the truth.

Rory pressed the buzzer for Logan's apartment number, but there was no answer. After another few tries, she could only assume he wasn't home. She'd gotten in in the middle of the night and found a hotel to sleep in, and she considered going back there and returning here later, but there was always the chance he would be out again. So she waited. There was bench down by the sidewalk, and she sat there, waiting. She didn't know how long she planned to do it, but in the end it wasn't an issue. She only had to wait twenty minutes.

He came around the corner she'd expected, from the direction of what she'd assumed to be the main parking lot for tenants of the building. She must have been right. It was mid afternoon, and Logan looked to be coming back from work. He was dressed for business, but a little rumpled and carrying an overstuffed briefcase—probably work for the weekend, considering it was Friday, after all.

She stood up, debating whether or not to call attention to herself or wait when he glanced up and\saw her, slowing to a stop a few feet away.

For a long, uncertain moment Logan only stared, but he was the first to break the silence.

"When you ran off, you gave the impression I'd never seen you again."

"At the time, I thought that was what I meant," Rory answered honestly. She crossed her arms uncomfortably. "Can I come in? We need to talk."

Logan let out a slow breath as he looked at her, until finally he motioned to the front doors of the building in a silent invitation. He didn't say a word as he passed her and took the steps, and she followed him quietly.

The apartment, too, was just what she'd expected it to be—open floor plan, on one of the upper floors of the building—perhaps a bit smaller than his other apartments, but this was California.

Logan set his briefcase on a chair just inside the door and moved to the kitchen area, motioning her to the stool seats around the island. "You want anything?" he asked, pulling a beer from the fridge. He started to reach for another, anticipating her answer, but she stopped him.

"Uh, water...would be fine. Thanks."

He paused, picked up a water bottle instead, and turned to hand it to her across the island's countertop. Rory took it, and when she lowerd herself onto the stool beside her Logan sat too, across from her, and opened his bottle to take a drink or two from it.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"Are you?"

"I'm sorry what happened upset you."

"But you're not sorry it happened."

He hesitated. "I know it was stupid, but...no. Not exactly. Is that so wrong?"

Not necessarily, but his perspective was bound to change in one way or another.

Logan spoke again when she didn't answer. "Rory, what are you doing out here?"

"Well I'm not here to kiss and make up," she said, not sure how else to get around to the subject at hand. "Not that I'm _angry_, exactly..."

"Yes you are. I know you are. It's written all over you."

She huffed. "Fine. Yes. So I'm angry—but more at myself than at you."

"Why?"

"I could have said no. All I had to do was say no, and it wouldn't have happened. But I didn't. It happened, and we have to deal with it. That's the only reason I'm here at all."

Logan scowled in confusion. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything yet; I want you to be quiet. I'm not finished." Rory twisted the cap from the water bottle ans swallowed some, stalling.

"Rory?"

"I'm pregnant," she answered finally. She hated to be so blunt, but—well no, she didn't. Maybe it was true that she was more angry with herself, but it didn't come without _some_ anger in Logan's direction.

He stared at her, and his mouth opened and closed several times before he looked away, still tongue-tied.

"I'm going to have it, but I'm not here to ask for anything. I just thought you deserved to know."

She waited then, for Logan to say something. It was another long moment or two before he even looked up, and when he did he only stared at first, as if deciding whether or not to believe her.

"So what, I deserve to know, but not to have any say?"

Rory crossed her arms again. "I'm not aborting this baby, Logan. Think about where I came from myself; no matter how much this whole this freaks me out, I can't just do that..."

There it was again. Reality knocking. Her crossed arms droped from tightly around her chest to a gentle loop around her middle as she swallowed, remember that there was a...a person in there.

"Rory?"

She didn't realize until he called her name that her eyes had glazed over. She blinked back the sudden tears, swallowing convulsively. "I'm fine," she answered automatically, swiping once at her eyes.

Logan swallowed as he looked at her. "You're not kidding."

She slid off the stool, crossed arms settling higher again. "_No_ I'm not kidding; why the hell would I make this up?"

"Rory, I—I don't know—"

"Do you think I do? Do you think I have any idea how this is going to fit into my life? Or...how my life is going to fit into _this_, I guess I should say. I don't. I don't I know anything yet—not how I'm going to deal with this, if it's a boy or a girl, if I'm going to keep it..." Rory let out a breath and glanced at the wall—just away. "I don't even know if I'm going to put your name on the birth certificate."

When she looked at him again his mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

"I'm only here because you needed to know," she reiterated quietly. "I don't want anything from you, and I don't expect this to fix anything between us. I just didn't want to do to you what April's mother did to Luke, and never tell you. But as far as that goes, if I keep the baby I don't expect you to be even as present as _my_ dad was. I'm not sure I want you involved at all, but then again I don't really know _what_ I want yet. I'm barely through processing the fact that this is real; I-I haven't time to think about anything else yet."

Somewhere in there Logan had stood, and come halfway around the island. He wasn't very far away now, and she was resisting the urge to back up.

"Look, maybe I should just go now; I don't know that there's anything else to say..." She tried to bolt for the door, but his voice stopped her.

"And you run off again? Drop that bomb and leave?"

Rory turned back to face him again. "What else _is_ there to say, Logan? I'm sorry? I am sorry. I'm sorry I let it happen, and made you think...whatever you thought then. I'm sorry we can't just forget it ever happened. I'm sorry things ever went wrong in the first place, but they did. I'm sorry that I don't know if _being_ sorry will ever change anything. But I know it doesn't right now." She took a deep breath. "So I should go. I've done what I came to do, and I should go, because it _doesn't_ change anything now. Right now we're still over."

Logan didn't seem to have an answer to that. He looked away for a long moment, maybe thinking, maybe stewing...and finally he brushed past her and went to his briefcase, where he pulled out his checkbook.

"Logan, I told you I don't want any—"

"Just let me do this, okay? So I don't feel _completely_ useless and caught off guard," he shot back harshly. Maybe she deserved the tone, a little. Logan sighed as he filled out a check, and when he was done he handed it to her. "There that should cover the plane ticket and the ruined clothes I never got the chance to reimburse you for."

Rory blinked as she looked at it. "Th-this is too much."

"If they haven't started yet, you'll have medical expenses soon."

"But—"

"Rory, I still don't understand everything that goes on in that head of yours, but I know this...situation is just as much my fault as yours. I don't know what you'll want later, and I don't know what _I'll _want, but you should take that now. Let me do that much, even if you won't take anything else later," he said, looking at her imploringly.

She swallowed and quietly slipped the check into her purse. "Fine." She went to the door, and she didn't expect him to say anything else. He very nearly didn't. Only when she was half way out did he call her name again. She looked back one more time, poised to shut the door.

"What?"

The confusion and annoyance had melted away, and there was pain on Logan's face, carefully masked as a small, resigned smile. But she saw it anyway.

"You know where to find me when you know what you want."

Rory nodded once, gave him something of an apologetic smile in return, and left.


End file.
